Precious
by Catspook
Summary: 4th year hurt/comfort AU-someone attacks Draco at Hogwarts and Lucius must take charge of the situation *WARNING* This contains: rape, torture, and incest, but not Lucius on Draco. *Revised 5/7/11*
1. Shock

New New Author Notes (5/7/11): As of last December, I hadn't touched any Harry Potter fanfic in years. I had decided to simply let these old stories rot and hope people forgot about them, but I have continued to receive reviews asking me to fix the formatting. Additionally, I have recently found a rekindled interest in the fandom due in no small part to one of the few things I did like about Deathly Hollows: the portrayal of the Malfoys. Therefore, I have decided to attempt to fix these stories, correcting not only the format but changing various elements around to make them more compatible with cannon and all around more readable. This universe of stories proved particularly difficult because of three things:

1) Blaise – First, the name. As of HBP, we finally got to know the real Blaise Zabini. Unfortunately, by then I had become very attached to my Blaise, and could not bear to change his name. I eventually settled on in a sort of tongue-in-cheek solution: two boys, both named Blaise and with similarly Italian last names, were sorted into Slytherin that year. Blaise Zabini is of course Rowling's Blaise, while my Blaise has become Blaise Valini. Secondly, I spent a lot of time toning down much of my Blaise's Sue-age (pun intended), so some scenes concerning him have been altered quite a bit.

2) Voldemort's defeat – I didn't have to change much here, I just removed the parts about the Dark Marks vanishing and Dumbledore telling everyone that Voldemort's defeat was final. The rest is left to you imagination, as this fic really isn't about Harry's struggle with Voldemort. Basically, think of Voldemort as having been "reset" – even though Lucius does not know this, the horcruxes still exist (except for the diary, of course) but Voldemort is weak again, like he was 13 years ago. This gives Dumbledore more time to break the whole prophecy and horcrux thing to Harry.

3) Narcissa – I really liked Narcissa portrayal as a loving mother in the last two books, but there was simply no way to fix that within this story. I finally decided to leave her as I had originally written her, but if you like, imagine that when Andromeda fell for her husband, Bellatrix was afraid Narcissa would do something similar, and somehow removed her ability to love. Or something.

Old Author's Note (Abridged): Just in case you didn't read the summary: *WARNING!* This contains: rape, torture, and incest, but not Lucius on Draco. It also contains lots and lots of fluff, because I like fluff.

Disclaimer: None of these characters are mine, which is just as well, because they keep ordering me around. Draco, especially, will not do what I want him to.

Precious

- Catspook

Chapter 1: Shock

Lucius Malfoy sat in a shadowed corner booth of the Three Broomsticks, impatiently waiting for his son. Truth be told, he was quite angry with the boy: not only had he fared worse than that mudblood Granger on every midterm exam, he had failed to meet Lucius for the last two Hogsmeade weekends. The boy was supposed to be gathering information on Potter, but he had not communicated a word to Lucius since before the Christmas holidays, save for two short notes saying he was too ill to make it to town. Lucius had sent him a letter this morning telling him on no uncertain terms that he had better meet him here or else, and he had better...

There he was. "Draco," Lucius frowned, "Why have you been avoiding me?"

The boy had his head bowed submissively as he sat and replied, "I'm deeply sorry, father, I was ill."

"Don't lie to me, boy. What is really going on?"

Draco refused to meet his eyes, and he toyed with the end of his green and silver scarf nervously. "I don't know what you mean, father."

"Look me in the eyes, boy," Lucius snarled, grabbing Draco's chin roughly.

"No!" Draco jerked away, panic evident in his voice. The hood from his cloak fell away, and Lucius gasped. Draco was a mess; his perfect, white-bond hair was no longer gelled back, but fell in front of his face in limp, ragged clumps. He had always had sharp features (just like Lucius), but his face was positively emaciated, his lips were chapped and bleeding, and his eyelids were puffy and red. And when he reached up to replace his hood, his calfskin gloves that had been tailored especially for him in August appeared at least two sizes too big.

"Draco... what has happened?" Lucius asked worriedly.

"Nothing. I don't know what you are talking about."

"Draco... Draco, you are ill. What happened? Why didn't the school contact me?"

"It's just the flu. I just took too long in going to Madam Pomfrey."

"Nonsense. Draco, it looks as if you haven't eaten for weeks! What is going on?"

"Nothing!" Draco stood to leave, but then he groaned and swayed dangerously. Lucius could see that he was going to fall, so he grabbed one bony wrist and pulled Draco into his lap. The boy was feather light!

"Oooh," Draco moaned, putting his head in his hands.

"Draco, child, tell me what's wrong so that I can help you."

"I can't," Draco whimpered. "I'm sorry, father, I can't."

"Of course you can. Tell me what's wrong."

"Nothing, nothing is wrong."

"Draco!" Draco flinched at Lucius' strict tone, which made no sense at all; Draco knew Lucius did not tolerate weakness. He had spent many hours teaching him not to cry out when he was cursed or punished with Lucius' cane. To flinch from a mere raised voice... what had happened to his perfect son?

"I am taking you home, Draco."

"No! I'm sorry, father, I didn't mean to flinch-"

"Hush, that isn't it. You're ill, and that fool Dumbledore is obviously not providing the care you need."

"I'm not-"

"Hush, child." Lucius stood slowly, putting an arm around Draco's waist lest the boy fall again. He led him to the public floo station, tossed a handful of powder and clearly annunciated, "Malfoy Manor."

Lucius pulled Draco into the fireplace with him just as the boy began to struggle. He had to work to keep his grip on Draco as they spun through the floo network and tumbled out of the ornate, ballroom fireplace. When Lucius pulled Draco into a standing position, the boy's overlarge, blood-shot eyes rolled up in his head and he fainted into Lucius' arms.

Lucius would never admit it, but he was close to panicking. What was wrong with his son? He swept Draco up in his arms and carried him to the boy's bedroom. He yanked back the black, silver, and green comforter, stripped off Draco's scarf, cloak, and boots and laid him in the bed. He covered Draco with blankets then hurried to the pewter decorated fireplace. After shouted "Doctor Uberan!" he waited impatiently for the image of the mediwizard's head to appear in the flames.

The doctor's reply was prompt; he knew that it was dangerous to keep Lucius Malfoy waiting. "Lucius? What seems to be the trouble?"

"My son is very ill. I need you at the Manor as soon as possible, and no one is to know."

"Of course, Lucius. I will be there in five minutes."

Lucius yelled for a house elf and told the disgusting thing to meet the mediwizard in the ballroom and escort him to Draco's room. He paced in agitation while waiting for Uberan to appear.

The was a light knock at the door and a tentative, "Lucius?"

"Augustus! Come in; Draco is on the bed."

The doctor stepped in cautiously, but when he saw Draco he immediately hurried over. "Dear Merlin! What happened to the boy?"

"He would not tell me; he said he could not."

"When was the last time you saw him?"

"September first. He was supposed to meet me in Hogsmeade in December and again in January, but he said he was ill. What is wrong with him?"

"Well, he's malnourished, I can tell right off, and he has a fever. Let me scan him." The mediwizard said the incantation and methodically swept his wand about an inch above Draco's limp body. "Oh. Oh, dear."

"What? What is wrong with him?"

"Lucius, I think you might want to step out a minute-"

"No! He is my son! What is wrong with him?"

"Lucius, keep your voice down, you are going to wake him."

"What is wrong with him?" Lucius growled in a low, very dangerous voice.

"Lucius, I... I believe that he has been bound, cut, and forcibly sodomized repeatedly, over a period of months."

"Raped? You are telling me that my son has been raped?"

"Yes. There is a great deal of damage, it will take several hours to heal."

"Can you heal him?"

"Physically yes, but emotionally-"

"I can handle any emotional problems he might have."

"I don't think you understand, Lucius-"

"I understand perfectly well, just heal him. I will be in my study. Send Dibby if you need me." With that, Lucius turned and stalked towards his study, his black cloak billowing out behind him like storm clouds. When he reached his study, as ashamed as he was of the display of emotion, he slammed the door so hard that a porcelain vase fell off the end of his desk and shattered. He threw himself into the chair behind his desk and tried to deduce who could have done this to his son, and how he had allowed it to happen.

He knew it might not appear that way to softhearted Gryffindors, but he had tried to be a good father. Any pains he brought on his son were only to prepare him for his life in Slytherin house and later, in the battle against the mudbloods and their ilk. Life was cruel, and he had tried to give Draco the tools to survive and flourish. Lucius' own father...

Abraxas Malfoy had been a cruel man. He had tortured his son for enjoyment. He had committed unholy acts that no father should ever engage in, and Lucius had promised himself that he would never do such things to his own child. He had wanted to teach his son to defend himself against such crimes, but now... His worst fears had come to life; someone had defiled his son, his little dragon, the way Abraxas had defiled him. He would find out who, oh yes, and that man would pay with every drop of blood in his body.

Lucius was so thinking so deeply that he did not notice that three hours had passed - and Doctor Uberan had come to report on Draco's condition - until the doctor cleared his throat loudly. Lucius whipped his wand out and was halfway though a curse before he realized the identity of the intruder. He calmly slid his wand back into the top of his cane and asked, "How is he?"

The doctor shifted nervously before answering. "I was able to heal the fever, cuts, abrasions, and other tissue damage, but he is dangerously underweight. I wrote down an appropriate diet schedule for him," the doctor handed Lucius three sheets of parchment covered in scratchy writing, "He will likely fight you on that, but he needs to fallow this schedule; if he loses any more weight, he will be in serious trouble. Take care to see that he is warm enough; he's going to be very susceptible to colds and flus for several months. I left several doses of pepperup by his bed, but consult me before you give him any."

The doctor then sighed deeply before continuing, "But what I am mostly concerned about is his mental condition. The cuts were mostly self inflicted-"

"He didn't try to kill himself?" Lucius demanded sharply.

"I don't believe so, but that doesn't mean he won't. I had your house elf remove anything from his room that he could use to harm himself and lock it in the guest room next to his. Here is his wand," Lucius took Draco's wand from the doctor's hand and held it as if it were made of glass. "I also suspect that he has been suffering from nightmares and insomnia. He is going to need a great deal of sleep; this is all the dreamless sleep potion I have with me. Do you have more in the house?" Lucius nodded.

"Don't give him any tonight; stay with him and see how well he sleeps. If he has violent nightmares, or cannot sleep after a couple hours of trying, give him one full dose for the next three nights. After that, cut the dose in half. It is important that you give him no more that that, or he might develop a dependence on the potion. But most importantly, you must never leave him alone. Even when he bathes, there must be someone with him. Don't raise your voice or-"

"I know how to handle my son, doctor. Is that all you have to tell me?"

"Only that he did not wake during my examination."

"Then tell me this, do you have any indication as to who did this to my son?"

"Well, it was a wizard, to judge by the restraint marks. About average size and strength, I'd say, who had prolonged access to him." The doctor then came to a very frightening realization, "It must have been either an older student or-"

"A professor," Lucius finished for him. Based on the doctor's description, and his own knowledge of what was happening at Hogwarts this year, Lucius had formed some very unpleasant suspicions. "Is that is all?" The mediwizard nodded. "Then go."

"I... I'll be back to check on him in a few days. If he develops any more problems-"

"I will call you, yes, of course. Forgive me for not showing you out, but I wish to be with Draco," Lucius said, as he rose from his chair.

After the Uberan left, Lucius locked Draco's wand in the top drawer of his desk and walked quickly to Draco's room. He paused a moment before opening the door. Draco was still asleep on his back, the covers pulled up to his chin. He looked so pale, almost... no, Lucius was not going to think of his son as dead. He pulled a chair to Draco's bedside and sat gently, afraid of waking the boy. He softly caressed the side of Draco's cheek, realizing the mediwizard had spelled the blankets and the pillows with a heating charm.

Lucius knew that he should have contacted Narcissa already, but he feared her response. He had always known that she would never make the perfect mother - he had marred her because she was beautiful and Abraxas had found her lineage acceptable - but she had turned out to be no mother at all.

She avoided interacting with Draco, and when she did have to speak to him, she was very distant and formal. The only thing she had ever liked to do with Draco was dress him up for parties, but Lucius had forbade that when Draco turned ten. In addition to thinking that Draco had become too old to be dressed by someone else, he did not like Narcissa treating him like a doll; could she not see that he was a real person? Lucius feared that Narcissa, off visiting friends France, would either rush home and get in the way or, more likely, not return, uncaring as to the fact that her son had been so horribly abused. How could Draco accept that his own mother did not care about his suffering?

Draco moaned quietly, and Lucius stroked his hair gently in an effort to comfort him. Draco's large eyes fluttered open and he looked at Lucius in confusion. "Father?"

"I'm here, Draco. How are you feeling?"

"I... I don't know, father."

"You don't know? Are you in pain?"

"No..." Draco replied distantly. He then tried to sit up, but was having a difficult time fighting against the weight of the blankets. Lucius pulled the covers down to Draco's waist, and helped him sit. He held the boy with one arm and rearranged the pillows so that Draco could lean back comfortably. He then released Draco and, mindful of the doctor's warning to keep him warm, pulled the blankets back up to Draco's chin. All the while, Draco stared at him as if he had never seen him before. "Father, I'm not dying, am I?"

"Of course you are not dying. But you are very ill; I want to make sure that you are taken care of properly."

"You're not angry with me?" Draco asked fearfully.

Lucius frowned. "Why would I be angry with you?"

Draco looked down. "Because I didn't complete my mission, and... and I didn't tell you that I was ill."

Lucius gently took Draco's chin and forced the boy to look in his eyes. "Draco, you did nothing wrong. Nothing that happened to you was your fault; it was the fault of the man that hurt you, and-"

"No one hurt me!" Draco shrieked, yanking himself away from Lucius' grasp. "I don't know what you are talking about!"

"I know that you are frightened, but he will never touch you again. You are at home with me; you are safe here."

Draco curled up into a tight ball. "Please leave me alone, Father."

"That is the one thing I cannot do."

"Why not?" Draco snapped.

"You know why not; you have been cutting yourself."

"I have not."

"I know that you have. I had Doctor Uberan examine you."

"What!" Draco sat up violently and glared evilly at Lucius. "You had no right to do that," he hissed.

"You are my son, you were very ill, and would not tell me what was wrong; I had every right."

Draco started to shake. "You had no right; it's my body."

Lucius knew that Draco felt violated by what he had done, but he had had no other choice. "You fainted; I was afraid that you were dying."

Tears started to form in Draco's eyes despite obvious efforts to stop them. "It's my body," he repeated.

"I know," Lucius said softly, "I know it is. But you are very ill; you need help right now."

"Malfoys don't need help," Draco repeated something he had often heard Lucius say.

Lucius sighed; he had believed that, but now... "Malfoys help each other, when needs be, and you need help right know; you know you do."

Draco said nothing; he just lay down and stared dully into the air. When he started to shiver, Lucius tried to pull the blankets up properly, but Draco was lying on top of them, and he would not let Lucius near him.

"Draco, I'm not going to hurt you. You need to keep warm or you will get sick. Please, Draco."

Finally, Draco let Lucius sit him up again and bundle him in the blankets.

"Are you hungry?" Draco shook his head. "When did you last eat?" Draco shrugged. "You need to eat something." Draco shook his head again. "Draco, this not up for debate. Doctor Uberan gave me a schedule, and we will follow it. I know that you do not wish to, but you must." Lucius could see that Draco wasn't listening to him. He could also see that Draco was still afraid of him, and that hurt more than anything.

It was time to be honest; Draco would never trust him unless Lucius told him the truth about how important Draco was to him. He had never said it before; those sort of weak sentiments always seemed particular to Hufflepuffs and Gryffindors, but if Lucius were truly honest with himself, they were the sort of things he had needed so badly to hear from his own parents.

"Draco, I... I cannot lose you. It's killing me to see you suffer so. I cannot imagine what I would do if you were to die." Draco looked at him, mistrust evident in his eyes.

"You said I wasn't dying."

Dear Merlin, let it be true. "You aree not, but you are very ill. If you don't take care of yourself, then you could."

"Die."

I was almost too painful to say. "Yes."

Draco seemed to consider this. Finally, he said, very quietly, "I don't want to die, father."

Lucius gently pulled Draco into his arms. "Then eat for me, my dragon, please." Draco nodded, his head leaning against Lucius' chest. Lucius stroked Draco's back affectionately. "Thank you; you are a good son."

Lucius then sent Dibby to the kitchens with Doctor Uberan's schedule. She reappeared shortly with a bowl of chicken and vegetable broth and two slices of soft, honey-wheat bread. Lucius draped the blankets over Draco's shoulders like a cloak so that he could use his arms.

It was slow going, but Draco did not complain. This made Lucius worry more, as Draco was one to complain about every little inconvenience. Lucius could tell that Draco was exhausted and still wary of Lucius' uncharacteristic gentleness. When Draco had finished the broth and the bread, Lucius helped him lie back down again. "Try to get some rest now." Draco snuggled into the blankets, but he kept peering at Lucius with suspicious eyes. "Are you warm enough?" Draco nodded. "Then try to sleep; you need rest."

"You're not going to demand to know who did it?"

Lucius froze. "I did not want to push you; I know that you will tell me that when you are ready. Do you wish to tell me now?"

"No."

"Then rest. Tell me when you are prepared; I promise that whoever it was, he cannot harm you here." Draco finally closed his eyes but did not appear to be sleeping. Lucius just sat by him and rubbed his back slowly. When Draco eventually nodded off, Lucius ordered Dibby to watch him while he contacted Narcissa and the school.

The letter to that fool Dumbledore was easy. Short and scathing, it simply informed him that Draco was very ill, and Lucius was caring for him at home, as he did not trust the school with his son's welfare. Narcissa was more difficult, as Lucius had decided to use the fireplace, and he did not feel he could tolerate dealing with her. But he forced himself to toss the powder into the flames and call out, "Narcissa Malfoy."

She took several minutes responding to his call; he could tell by the rollers in her blond hair that she was having her hair done by her friend's house elf. "Oh, hello, Lucius. Is something the matter?"

"Indeed there is. Draco has been... attacked by someone at school. He is very ill and I took him home; I do not trust that school to look after him properly."

"He'll live, then?"

"Certainly, but he will require a great deal of care. I'm taking a leave of absence from the Ministry. As his mother, I thought that you would want to be with him."

As expected, Narcissa waved him off. "You know that's quite impossible. Helena has arranged a great many events witch I simply must attend. And I'm sure that you have everything in hand."

Lucius' blood boiled. How could he have married this woman? How could he have entrusted with her the honor of being the mother of his child; an honor that she neither appreciated nor even acknowledged? "I'm giving you one last chance, Narcissa," he growled. "Come home. Be the kind of mother you should have been from the beginning, and you shall remain my wife. If not, I'll divorce you and leave you with nothing."

Narcissa frowned. "A divorce would leave me with half of you estate; I cannot imagine that you would be willing to give up that much."

Lucius sneered. "You should have read the prenuptial contract more closely. It states quite clearly that if you commit adultery, you are entitled to nothing. I know that you have been shagging that weasel Nott for years. And who knows how many others have had the... dubious pleasure of your overripe cunt." Lucius was not that fond of profanity, but he wanted to hurt Narcissa as much as possible.

Narcissa flushed darkly and glared at him through the flames. "I'll take you to court. I'll make sure that the entire wizarding world knows that you are a dark wizard and a cuckold. You'll have no time at all to take care of your precious Draco."

"No one would believe you about the dark arts; I know full well you know nothing about what I do or you would have turned me in and taken control of the entire estate years ago. As for the adultery, I don't care who knows; in fact, I fully intend to tell the papers when they ask. I'm quite looking forward to watching Nott squirm. Any trial would last a couple of weeks at most; that contract is iron clad. Draco would have the best care regardless. However, because I don't fancy wasting any more of my time on the likes of you, I propose this: my lawyer will write up a contract of divorce in which you have no contact at all with me or Draco unless we initiate it, you say not one word about the divorce, me, or Draco to anyone, *ever*, and you never again return to any of the Malfoy holdings. In return, you will receive 30,000 galleons, immediately, in cash. That should give you sufficient funds to find another rich man to leech off of."

Narcissa looked at him suspiciously for a minute. "80,000," she finally said.

"Thirty-five," Lucius sneered.

"Seventy," Narcissa countered haughtily.

"Forty," Lucius hissed, letting Narcissa know not to push him too far.

"Sixty," Narcissa said, less confident.

"Forty-five," Lucius growled dangerously.

"Fifty?"

"Done." Narcissa could see that her best option was to grab the money and run. "I'll sent Proust with the contract and the money with 24 hours," Lucius coldly informed her. Then he added, casually, "Oh, and Narcissa, you realize that violation of the contract will cost you more than just the 50,000." He drew his wand across his throat to make his meaning very clear. He had the satisfaction of watching Narcissa lose all color before he terminated the spell.

Damn that woman! Lucius slammed his fist against the mantle piece in a rage. At the moment, he did not really care about the money, the public embarrassment, or losing a fine trophy wife, but Draco now had no mother at all. How could she have the most perfect son in all the world and just throw him away? She reminded him a bit of his own mother, but at least Morganna had had the fear of Abraxas' anger as an excuse. What excuse did Narcissa have? Lucius only hoped that when Draco took a wife, he would choose more wisely than Lucius had.

Lucius then quickly wrote a detailed letter to Proust, his lawyer, explaining what he wanted done and ordering him to bring the contract to the Manor in the morning so that he could review and sign it. He also sent a brief, ambiguous note to the ministry informing them that he was taking a leave of absence. As he sent the second owl off, Dibby appeared in his office in a panic.

"Master Malfoy, sir! Young master Draco is having horrible dreamses, sir! Dibby is trying to wake him, sir, but he just screamses and screamses, sir!"

Draco! Lucius ran to Draco' rooms to find his son screaming, wailing, and trashing about, tangled in the blankets like a bird caught in a net. Lucius immediately caught Draco's wrists and called to him desperately, "Draco! Wake up! It's only a dream! Please, wake up!"

Lucius tried shaking him, but Draco did not wake. His screams diminished after several minutes into painful sobbing and whimpering. Lucius let go of Draco's wrists, which were bruised from his struggles, and pulled the boy into his arms. He rocked Draco like a distraught child (but he still was a child, wasn't he), stroked his back and his hair, and murmured reassurances to him. After a time, Draco's eyes opened, swollen, red, and sticky with drying tears. "Father?" he asked timidly.

Lucius held him tighter, "I'm here, my precious dragon; you're safe." Draco sighed and relaxed against Lucius' chest. He wrapped his thin arms around Lucius' shoulders and remained silent for a long while.

Finally, Draco asked. "Father, if I told you who... who it was, what would you do?"

Lucius frowned. "I would see to it that he paid for what he did to you, and would never, ever be able to do it again. Do you wish to tell me who it was?"

"I... I think so." Draco paused, and Lucius was secretly proud of his son for having to courage to speak the name. "It was... it was... Professor…"

Dear, Merlin, let him not say Snape; anyone except his most trusted teacher, "M... Moody," he finished quickly.

Crouch jr.? It was Crouch!

*End Chapter 1*


	2. Pain

Disclaimer: None of these characters are mine, which is just as well, because they keep ordering me around. Draco, especially, will not do what I want him to.

Precious

-Catspook

Chapter 2: Pain

Lucius had had the disturbing suspicion that the attacker had been Crouch, but now that he knew, he had to decide what steps to take. Was avenging Draco important enough to risk betraying the Dark Lord? Lucius looked down into Draco's thin, fear ravaged face and knew immediately that it was.

"Thank you, son," Lucius smiled faintly, "You are very brave, and I will eliminate the man that did this to you."

Draco flushed in embarrassment and muttered, "I don't feel brave."

Lucius pulled Draco closer to him, "You are, whether you feel it or not." Draco did not respond. Lucius just held him a bit before suggesting, "Would you like a bath?"

Draco shrugged. Lucius decided to interpret that as a yes, so he eased off the bed and lifted Draco in his arms. Once Draco, in his less than observant state, realized what Lucius was doing, he protested, "Father! I can walk!"

Lucius smiled inwardly; there was still some fight left in the boy. Outwardly, he looked seriously at Draco and said, "I cannot take the chance of you fainting again and hitting your head."

Draco frowned at him. "But you will leave me alone to bathe, won't you?"

"I'm sorry, Draco, but you know I can't."

Draco froze in Lucius' arms. "I don't want a bath, father."

"Don't be silly. I'm your father, I've given you baths before."

Draco looked offended. "When?"

"Let me see... I believe that the last time was when you were seven and you had a terrible fever. I'm not surprised you don't remember; you were quite delirious."

"A fever? I don't remember that. Couldn't the mediwizards cure it?"

"Not right off; it was something that you caught from playing with a griffin cub. The original cure had runespoor scales in it; you know you are allergic runespoor in any form. It's took Severus six days to create a new antidote."

"Professor Snape cured me?"

"Yes. It was the first time I had had occasion to interact with him after the war. I don't believe that he has ever trusted me since he turned to Dumbledore, but he took quite a liking to you. He said you had an impressive knowledge of potions for a seven year old, and an ill one at that." Lucius gently lowered Draco to sit on the side of the boy's serpentine tub.

Draco frowned, confusion shadowing his eyes. "Professor Snape said that?"

Lucius started the water running. "Indeed he did. And well he should have; it's not every seven-year-old that knows the difference between powdered and crushed dragon scales."

"I always thought that he was nice to me because he was trying to curry your favor."

Lucius, satisfied with the temperature of the water, plugged the drain. "Merlin, no! Severus cares little for politics, and as I said, he does not trust me."

Draco smiled a little to himself; Lucius hoped that this new information would help restore the boy's confidence. Lucius also took advantage of the momentary improvement in his son's mood to attempt to get on with the bath. "Father! I can undress myself!" Draco protested indignantly.

Lucius inclined his head in a deferential fashion, but while Draco handled the buttons all right, he lacked the strength to stand and step out of the dressing gown Dibby had changed him into during Uberan's examination.

Lucius caught Draco before he fell, removed his clothes, and gently lowered him into the warm, soapy water. Draco's face burned with humiliation, and he refused to look at Lucius. But Lucius would not let Draco stew in his misery; he forced Draco to look in his eyes and said, "I know you feel helpless right now, but you cannot dwell on it. I'm here to help you through this. Now close your eyes." When Draco's eyes were firmly shut, Lucius took a cloth and carefully washed the tear stains from his son's face.

O~O~O~O~O

"But, father, I ate just a few of hour ago," Draco moaned. Draco must have been feeling better, Lucius thought, he was complaining.

"That was lunch," Lucius explained patiently, while he arranged the blankets around Draco's shoulders, "This is dinner. You realize, of course, that most people eat at least three times a day." That last bit was said with the trademark Malfoy smirk; Lucius felt that a small battle of wills might help bring Draco back to himself.

"Did you?" Draco remarked acidly; he was clearly in a foul mood.

"Did I what?"

"Did you eat lunch today?" Ah, a point to Draco.

"Did you eat breakfast?"

Draco frowned; Lucius had known that he hadn't. "Tell you what; we'll both have dinner now and something before bed, and we'll be even," Lucius continued gently, to ease the sting of his victory. Draco pouted angrily, but Lucius recognized concession when he saw it. When Dibby arrived with Draco's dinner, Lucius sent her back to get something for himself. True to their deal, Draco didn't touch his dinner until Lucius had started his.

But even then, Draco just picked at his food. Lucius let him be for a few minutes; he knew that Draco was suffering terribly inside his own mind. But Lucius became concerned when Draco started rubbing his forearms in agitation. Lucius had noticed Draco staring at them in the bath. "What is the matter?"

Draco didn't answer, but Lucius could tell he was fighting back tears. Lucius was actually impressed by Draco's strength; he had expected the boy to break down before now. Lucius moved the tray and set his own plate aside so that he could take Draco in his arms. Draco did not acknowledge him; he just kept rubbing his forearms. "Draco, what is the matter? You can tell me." A few tears fell from Draco's tightly closed eyes, but he still did not answer.

Lucius held Draco and rubbed his trembling back, trying to think of what to say. Finally realizing what was keeping Draco from crying in earnest, he said, "It's all right to cry, son. You'll feel better for it." That was it; Draco clung to Lucius as he let the harsh sobs course though his frail body. Lucius held him tightly, like he had when Draco was seven and ravaged by fever; he was just as ill now, but now the sickness was within his mind as well and could not be cured by a simple potion.

Lucius tried to offer what comfort he could, but he had never learned how, and he worried that he wasn't doing it correctly. But Draco was strong; he'd get through this, wouldn't he?

Draco's sobs eventually died down, but he continued to hold onto Lucius with all his rapidly failing strength. Lucius continued to comfort Draco as best he could; he pulled an impossibly soft handkerchief from his pocket and wiped away the last of Draco's tears. "Do you feel better?"

Surprisingly, Draco nodded. Lucius smiled and kissed he top of Draco's head. He had never done that before; he had always considered it a silly, childish thing to do, but at this moment, he could not help himself. Draco just cuddled closer to him.

Lucius did not want to shatter the fragile cloud of peacefulness that had descended, but the question had to be asked or Draco's wounds would never really heal. "Draco, why did you cut yourself?" All of the self-inflicted cuts had been on Draco's forearms, and Lucius had realized while Draco had been crying that that was probably why Draco had been rubbing them.

Draco froze a minute before answering. "I... I wanted the scars."

"Why?"

"I... I..." Draco seemed on the edge of tears again. "I wanted to make myself ugly so that he wouldn't want me anymore," he sobbed.

Ugly? Draco, his beautiful child, had wanted to make himself ugly? "Oh, Draco, my beautiful boy, I swear on all that is precious to me that he will never harm you again."

Draco began sobbing again, but he soon ran out of tears. He lay in Lucius' arms while Lucius tried to figure out what to do. It was clear that Draco was so exhausted that he could barley move, and it seemed like a cruelty to force him to eat, but Lucius feared the consequences should he deviate from the diet Dr. Uberan had prescribed.

Finally, Lucius decided to feed Draco himself. He tore off small pieces of bread and soaked them in broth before pushing them into Draco's mouth one by one. It was a struggle to get Draco to accept each new piece, but his reluctance seemed to spring from fatigue more than anything else.

After the bread was gone, Lucius commanded Dibby to remove the tray then tucked an already seeping Draco into bed. Lucius settled into the chair still by Draco's bed, and prepared to spend the rest of the evening at his son's side, lest the boy have more nightmares. As he sat, he considered how best to dispose of Crouch jr.

Lucius wanted to hurt Crouch, wanted to hurt him as badly as he had hurt Draco, but how could he hurt someone who had escaped Azkaban, who cared for nothing, not even himself, except... And there was his answer. The only thing that meant anything to Crouch was the Dark Lord's rising. The worst thing Lucius could do to Crouch was to destroy the Dark Lord. And surprisingly, to even himself, Lucius was willing to do exactly that.

Lucius had joined the Dark Lord for two reasons. In the short term, he had been concerned with his own survival; as he had failed again and again to measure up to Abraxas ' insane expectations, which had only increased as he got older, Abraxas had become more and more violent. Lucius had been, and still was, convinced that Abraxas would have killed him if the Dark Lord had not killed Abraxas first. The Dark Lord had seemed so caring; he had understood how badly fathers could mistreat their sons, or so he said. He had certainly shown more concern for Lucius' predicament than any of the teachers at school had. That blind fool Dumbledore helped his precious Gryffindors get away with attempted murder, but let a Slytherin be tortured by his father and the old man didn't care a bit. The Dark Lord had been sympathetic, and he had provided what Lucius had most needed: protection from Abraxas.

But after Abraxas ' death, Lucius had still believed in the Dark Lord out of more than just gratitude. Even then, years before Draco was born, he had been devoted to the idea of being an ideal father. He had wanted his child, his pureblooded child, to live in a world where everyone would respect him and recognize him for the perfection that he was. Lucius believed in the Dark Lord's dogma because of Draco. And when he had abandoned the cause after the Dark Lord's encounter with the Potter boy, that also had been for Draco.

Even then, he had recognized that Narcissa would never be the kind of mother Draco deserved, and if Lucius had gone to Azkaban, Draco would have had no one to care for him. And now there was still nothing as important to Lucius as Draco. Draco deserved to be respected and appreciated by the wizarding world, but Lucius could see now that the Dar- Riddle, was not the means to accomplish such a task. And if Lucius were truly honest with himself, he had doubted for years. The diary business two years ago had been something of a test; a test that Riddle had failed.

Lucius knew that Riddle was weak now, but that did not mean he would fall to a simple Avada Kedavra; and in any case, Lucius wanted to keep his name out of it for Draco's sake. What to do then? Lucius was used to getting others to do his dirty work, it was what had kept him out of Azkaban after the war, but who was suited to this task?

Not his usual cronies, of course; they all supported Riddle, and were too stupid to realize how foolish they had been for believing in him. Dumbledore could easily wipe Riddle out with the information Lucius had, but he was bound to ask uncomfortable questions, and Lucius knew that he did not have the patience to deal with the insufferable man. Severus could probably manage it as well, but he still did not trust Lucius. The potions master would probably do it for Draco's sake, but Lucius did not want Draco involved in any way. The Ministry? No, Fudge was much too stupid to trust with such an important task. Dumbledore could keep the man focused, but Lucius was still unwilling to deal with the old codger. But could he perhaps involve Dumbledore without actually having to speak to him?

Lucius had to find a go-between, but who would trust Lucius and also be trusted by Dumbledore? No one. Lucius considered sending the information anonymously, but Dumbledore would not be stupid enough to act on that kind of accusation unless it was from a source he knew and trusted. However, the old man was prone to putting his trust in the stupidest of individuals; certainly one of them would be willing to act on anonymous information?

The perfect solution formed in Lucius' mind: the Potter boy, of course! He and his little friends always seemed to solve some great mystery every year; all Lucius had to do was to give them enough of a clue to figure out "Moody's" true identity, and Dumbledore would take it from there. Even if the ministry got involved, Dumbledore was sure to beat them to Riddle. It was a perfect plan, and even if he was eventually discovered as the source of the information, Dumbledore liked his secrets; he would let Potter and his cronies take all the glory for Riddle's demise.

Having decided on a course of action, Lucius was able to relax slightly. His task now was to figure out how to tell the Potter boy what he needed to know. Considering that Potter had trusted the 'boy' inside Riddle's diary two years ago, Lucius could probably even send Potter a simple note by owl, and the boy would likely to act on it. And if Potter believed that the note was from his lunatic godfather, he'd likely jump of a cliff if it told him to.

That shouldn't be too difficult. All Lucius had to do was find a sample of Black's handwriting, forge a note, and find a wild bird to deliver it. He could obtain a handwriting sample from the ministry in the morning, when he went in to retrieve some things from his office there. He would decide what to write then, and send it that night. With any luck, Riddle would be dead within the week.

That decided, Lucius put Crouch jr. and Riddle out of his mind; tonight he wanted to give Draco his undivided attention. Lucius forced himself to eat a bit more; he did not want Draco refusing to eat later because Lucius had broken their deal. Draco seemed to sleep peacefully for several hours, for which Lucius was thankful. He constantly checked to make sure that Draco was warm enough, and started to feel frustrated that he couldn't do more.

Now that the initial shock was wearing off, Lucius felt a deep sadness welling up in him. Crouch had attacked Draco, but whether he had intended it or not, he had wounded Lucius as well. When Abraxas had died, Lucius had convinced himself that that period in his life was over, and he would never have to face anything like it again; but now he had been confronted with something even worse. The illusion of safety that he had worked hard at cultivating for the last fifteen years had shattered. Lucius was shocked to discover tears running down his face.

"Father?"

Lucius' head snapped up. "Draco? What are you doing awake?"

Draco shrugged tiredly, but Lucius could tell from the glazed look in the boy's eyes that Draco had not, in fact, entirely awoken. Lucius stroked Draco's cheek lovingly. "Go back to sleep, son; you need to rest."

Draco seemed only too willing to comply, but before he succumbed to the darkness completely, he murmured, half consciously, "It's all right to cry, father. You'll feel better for it."

Lucius' eyes widened alarmingly. What did that mean? Did Draco really care about how Lucius was feeling enough to allow for a moment of weakness? If so, he was the first person ever in Lucius' life to do so. But it was also possible, if not likely, that Draco, in his half-conscious state, was merely repeating what Lucius had told him earlier.

Lucius was unwilling to take the chance. He viciously suppressed his emotions and wiped the offending tears from his silver eyes. Draco was his son; he should not have to expend his precious energy looking after Lucius. In fact, considering Draco's condition, Lucius considered it a betrayal to allow the boy to do so. Lucius would have time enough to look after himself once Draco had recovered. Lucius banished Abraxas to the darkest corner of his mind and hoped that the old man would stay there.

O~O~O~O~O

"Draco? You must wake up; you have to eat. Come now, precious, open your eyes." Lucius truly did hate to wake the boy; he looked so peaceful. But he also looked far too thin and Lucius knew that Draco had to eat.

Draco was not being cooperative. He moaned and snuggled deeper into the blankets. Lucius didn't know if Draco was awake or not, and he didn't want to frighten the boy by raising his voice or shaking him, but his gentle inquiries were being ignored. Lucius finally had to pry the blankets from Draco's hands and pull them away from his skinny body. Draco's eyes snapped open at the sudden cold. "Draco," Lucius repeated, "Just eat a little for me and you can go right back to sleep."

Draco did not protest, but he did not really consent either. He was completely limp as Lucius propped him into a sitting position and again draped the blankets over his bony shoulders. He was also either too tired or too contrary to feed himself, and Lucius fed him like before. Lucius didn't really mind; it reminded him of when Draco had been a baby. That was the first time in Lucius' life when he had felt any semblance of contentment with his life. The war aside, Abraxas had been dead for over five years, and Draco had been Lucius' happy, beautiful, perfect baby. Draco was far from happy now, and terribly ill as well, but Lucius had never felt more at peace than when he held his son in his arms.

When Draco had eaten enough to satisfy Dr. Uberan's requirements, Lucius tucked him back into bed, and had some bread himself just so that he wouldn't have to lie if Draco brought it up tomorrow. Lucius also had Dibby bring him some strongly caffeinated tea; he wanted to be as alert as possible so that he could detect any distress Draco might be in.

Draco slept peacefully for a few hours, but he eventually started moaning and whimpering again. This time, however, he fought back when Lucius tried to shake him awake. Lucius was too worried about Draco to notice the bloody scratches Draco's brittle fingernails had carved in Lucius cheek, but when Draco finally woke, he noticed the blood immediately. "Father?" he whispered hoarsely, "I hurt you..."

Lucius noticed the cuts when Draco touched them hesitantly, and when Lucius brushed them with his own fingers, they came away red. But more importantly, Draco seemed terrified of Lucius' reaction to the accidental injury. The boy was cowering in fear and muttering compulsively, "I'm sorry. I'm sorry. I'm so sorry. I didn't mean it, father. I'm sorry, please... I'm sorry..."

"Hush," Lucius soothed, "It was an accident. It's all right..." but Draco did not seem to be listening. He was still babbling apologies and panting in fear. He looked dangerously close to hyperventilation, and when Lucius tried to get his attention by grabbing his shoulder, Draco curled up into a defensive ball and started sobbing. It occurred to Lucius that Draco was probably confronting a memory of Crouch. The same thing had happened to Lucius on occasion, but never having had someone there to bring him out of it, he had no idea how to help his son.

Eventually, the memory seemed to end, and Draco uncurled a bit, but he continued to cry. He finally let Lucius gather him up in his arms and rock him gently. "I'm sorry, father," Draco sobbed.

Lucius kissed the top of Draco head. "It's all right, my dragon. You couldn't help it. I am going to get the bastard that did this to you, and he will beg for death before the end."

But this did not seem to comfort Draco. "No, father," he pleaded, "Please don't leave me."

"Hush, precious. I won't leave you. I'll let those insipid Gryffindors do the dirty work. 'Moody' has a few secrets that will easily get him the dementor's kiss, and your name need never come up."

"Professor Moody is a Death Eater?" Draco sniffed. Clever boy; even as upset as he was, he'd figured out Lucius' intentionally ambiguous comment immediately. Lucius might as well acknowledge the achievement.

"Well done, Draco. Yes, he is a Death Eater."

"But I thought professor Moody was an auror."

Ah, the moment of truth, "He is, but the man that attacked you is not Mad-Eye Moody. He is an impostor by the name of Barty Crouch jr. His mission was to deliver the Potter brat into the Dark Lord's hands, but now I see that he is a menace and needs to be destroyed."

Draco sat up and looked into Lucius' eyes suspiciously. "But if he is captured, won't that put the Dark Lord in danger?"

"It will probably ensure his permanent defeat, actually, but I see now that he is not the savior he made himself out to be. He deserves to be defeated if he puts his trust in a man that preys on pureblooded children."

"You... you'd betray that Dark Lord for me?" Draco asked hesitantly.

Lucius looked deep into Draco's eyes and his heart bled with the sadness he saw in them. "In an instant," he replied firmly. Draco appeared to be at a loss for words, so Lucius pulled him into a close embrace and added, "Nothing at all matters to me except you, my precious child." Lucius' heart broke further when Draco started crying again.

"I'm sorry, father," he cried, "For being so weak. You shouldn't have to give up our future because of me."

Lucius held Draco closer. "Nonsense. I'm not giving anything up, just correcting a mistake in judgment I made long ago. Now try to rest; you must be exhausted." But Lucius continued to hold Draco until his tears stopped falling.

O~O~O~O~O

The night had been anything but restful for either of them. Draco had cried himself to sleep in his father's arms, but he had been awakened no less than three more times by nightmares about Crouch. When Lucius had questioned him about how he had been sleeping at school, Draco was evasive but eventually admitted that he had been having nightmares every night for weeks. He had placed a silencing charm on the curtains of his bed so that his roommates would not hear him screaming. Lucius had also come to realize that Crouch had liked it when Draco screamed and cried, which explained much about Draco's present behavior.

Now, at six in the morning, Draco was so exhausted that he could barely move, but he was too afraid to try to sleep. Lucius, who could barely keep his own eyes open, gave up on trying to lull him to sleep. He knew that it was both impossible and cruel; Draco shouldn't have to relive *that* anymore tonight. Lucius finally decided to kick off his boots and climb into bed with Draco, so that he could hold him comfortably for a couple of hours before breakfast.

Lucius was awakened by Dibby's arrival at eight with no memory of falling asleep. Draco had wrapped his thin arms around Lucius' chest and rested his head against Lucius' shoulder, but he was obviously awake. Lucius sat up gingerly and tried to shake the fog from his mind. "Did you sleep?" he asked Draco.

Draco shook his head. "No, but..."

"But?"

"But... thanks for staying with me. It was... nice."

Lucius hugged him. "You're my son, how could I do anything else? And..." this part was difficult; Lucius had never sincerely apologized to anyone in his life, "I am sorry for falling asleep; I did not mean to do that." Draco just hugged him back, burying his face in Lucius' neck. Lucius would have been touched if he hadn't immediately recognized Draco's ploy to get out of eating breakfast.

"Clever, Draco, but you have to eat now." Draco didn't move, and he resisted Lucius' attempts to dislodge him. "Now, now, Draco, you know you have to eat. Be a good boy and let go of father." Lucius could feel Draco frowning at that patronization, but he was too smart to fall for Lucius' trick; Draco just tightened his grip on Lucius. Lucius sighed, "Please don't do this, Draco. I don't like to force you to do something you don't want to do-"

Draco snorted in disgust and Lucius froze. "What was that supposed to mean?" Lucius asked accusingly. Draco didn't answer, but Lucius could feel him start to shake. "What did you mean by that, Draco?" Lucius repeated in a gentler tone of voice.

"I... I'm sorry, father," Draco answered, his voice muffled and halting, "I didn't mean anything by it."

Lucius knew that he had meant something, and he had a fairly good idea what it was, but he decided to let it drop for the time being. He did not want to get into a discussion about the mistakes he had made with Draco until he and Draco were both thinking clearly. Lucius stroked Draco's back lightly, "It's all right, son, but would you eat for me, please?" This time, Draco nodded and slowly let go of Lucius and sat up on his own. He looked tired and miserable, and he refused to look directly at Lucius.

Lucius eased himself off the bed and sank into the chair while Draco began breakfast. Lucius was also thoroughly exhausted, but he began his own breakfast obediently when Draco asked pointedly why he wasn't eating. All in all, the last thing Lucius wanted to do today was visit the Ministry, but he needed that sample of Black's writing, and if he did not show up to verify his leave of absence, there would be questions and possible visits to Malfoy Manor by nosy Ministry officials; that was not to be tolerated.

Fortunately, Draco fell asleep immediately after breakfast, so Lucius would not have to debate him about going. If Lucius was lucky, he could be there and back before Draco woke up. Just in case, Lucius wrote Draco a quick note:

_Draco,_

_I've gone to the Ministry to verify my leave of absence and collect some things from my office. I should be gone no longer than an hour. I'll leave Dibby by your bed in case you need anything while I'm gone. Keep warm and try to rest._

_love,_

_Father_

Lucius left the note on the bedside table and renewed the heating charm on Draco's blankets before giving Dibby her orders and leaving the room. Realizing that he had been wearing the same clothes for almost 24 hours, he cast a freshening charm on himself before flooing directly to the Ministry. Lucius decided to get the sample of Black's writing last; he wanted to lower his chances of getting caught with any documents he was not supposed to have. He retrieved the few items from his office that he wanted to take (some papers and a couple of photographs of Draco at ages three and thirteen), shrank them, and placed them in his pockets.

He then went to the office of his superior, Hecate Hillard. Hillard was in a meeting, but Terrance, her secretary, told Lucius that she had approved his leave and hoped that Draco would feel better soon. Lucius asked Terrance to thank Hillard for him, and immediately headed down to records. It was just Lucius' luck that he ran into the Weasley whelp at the front doors to the records vault.

"Hello, Mr. Malfoy," the boy greeted coldly. Lucius was surprised to see him there; he'd have figured that Crouch sr.'s disappearance would be keeping the little brown nose too busy to go down and retrieve documents himself. But more important than why the muggle-lover was here, was how Lucius was going to get the document he needed without giving the brat any clues about what he was truly after.

Pointedly ignoring the greeting, Lucius walked into the vault and, as opposed to looking under 'B', where Weasley might be able to see what he what document he pulled, he marched all the way down to 'P'. Black was Potter's godfather, and was an official witness to James Potter's wedding; he must have signed at least one document relating to the Potters.

Sure enough, the name 'Sirius Black' was written in a nearly illegible scrawl on the bottom of the Potters' marriage certificate. Lucius cast a cloning charm on the document, rolled it up, and put it in his pocket. Relived at the easy discovery, Lucius hurried back to the atrium and flooed home.

What Lucius did not realize was that during lunch that day, Percy Weasley went back down to records and cast an aura charm (the aura charm is used to indicate, roughly, where an individual has been within the past few hours). The charm indicated that the file Lucius had been snooping through was in cabinet #3420: Post-Pou. Percy jumped to the only logical conclusion: what villainy, exactly, did Malfoy have planned, and how did it involve Harry?

* End Chapter 2 *


	3. Worry

Disclaimer: None of these characters are mine, which is just as well, because they keep ordering me around. Draco, especially, will not do what I want him to.

Precious

- Catspook

Chapter 3: Worry

Thankfully, Draco was still asleep when Lucius reentered the bedroom. Lucius quietly tossed the note he had left into the fireplace, sending Dibby off with a glare. Lucius collapsed into the chair with a sigh, still bone tired. He watched Draco sleep peacefully, and tried to compose the wording of the note he would send to Potter. He had already decided to use a crow to deliver it, because he didn't know where Black was hiding (what he could get with that information!) and crows could be found just about everywhere.

Eventually, Lucius lost patience with the task, and he shifted his focus to Draco's recovery. Thoughts of Abraxas sprang up every now and then, but Lucius resolved to ignore them all. Lucius knew that Draco would get better eventually; it was only a question of how long it would take. Considering that less than four months of school remained, Lucius decided that it would probably be best if Draco did not return until September; he did not want the boy fretting about taking the final exams on the school's schedule. Once Draco was felling better, Lucius would bring in private tutors and Severus, as Draco's head of house, could come and administer equivalent exams when Draco was ready. And if Draco never wanted to return to school, there were other acceptable options.

At one point, Lucius reached into his pocket for the photographs he had taken from his office. Terminating the shrinking charm, he examined them both carefully. The photo of Draco at thirteen was fairly standard; it had been professionally taken the Christmas before last. Lucius had one taken every year, either at Christmas or over the Easter holidays. Because of the Yule ball, the portrait for this year had not yet been taken, and Lucius had still had the old one on his desk. Draco looked splendid in black, velvet dress robes, posing with perfect posture.

But Lucius' favorite photo of Draco was the other that he held in his hands. He had taken it one day when Draco was three and had decided that he did not want to wait until Hogwarts to learn how to use magic. He had somehow gotten a hold of one of Lucius' spare wands and gone out into the garden to practice the wingardium leviosa charm. Through one of the library windows, Lucius had seen Draco trying to levitate a dead leaf and had been enchanted by the boy's attempts.

Lucius had ordered a house elf to fetch the camera and had taken almost half a roll of film of Draco waving that wand about and repeating the words over and over. Draco had tried the spell for over an hour, but that leaf never budged. Eventually, he had noticed Lucius watching him, and when Lucius had gone out into the garden to confront him, Draco had apologized profusely. But he had not apologized for stealing the wand, oh no, he had apologized that he had disappointed Daddy by not being able to cast the spell. Lucius had been so touched that he had swept Draco into his arms and told him that it was ok; no three-year-old could cast that charm. He had completely forgotten about the theft.

The Draco in the photo Lucius held had not noticed that he was being watched, and he just kept trying to spell that leaf as hard as he could. Draco had been so innocent then, never afraid of anything except disappointing Daddy; and that only because he had loved Lucius.

Draco was five before Lucius had stuck him for the first time. Lucius suddenly realized how badly he had ruined that perfect relationship by beating Draco. At that moment, Lucius would have given anything to be able to go back and not strike that first blow. It was no wonder Draco was suspicious of Lucius now, he kept expecting to be hurt. His poor dragon, he had deserved a far better father than he had.

Lucius sat and stared at the photograph morosely until Draco woke once again. "What are those?" Draco asked sleepily.

Lucius started, he had not noticed Draco waking. "Photographs," Lucius answered shortly.

"Oh. You're not going to make me eat are you?" Draco pouted.

"Yes, but not now," Lucius answered. "Lunch is not for another hour. Sleep some more if you like."

"Mmh," Draco seemed to consider it. "Where is mother?" he asked suddenly.

Oh, Merlin, why did he have to ask that? Lucius placed the photos on Draco's bedside table while he tried to think of what to say. "She's in France visiting friends," he began. Now the hard part, "Draco... she is not coming back."

"Why not?"

"We are getting a divorce, Draco."

"Why?" but Draco did not sound particularly surprised.

"She... Narcissa is an adulteress."

"And?" Lucius raised an eyebrow.

"And? What other reason do I need?"

"Don't patronize me, Father. She's been sleeping around for years; there has to be another reason."

"You're right; there is another reason. I really shouldn't try to fool you." Lucius paused, searching for the correct words. "I did not feel that she was a proper mother," he finally replied.

"Proper? What..." Draco's face fell. "She didn't want to come back, right? I was raped, and she doesn't care," he sniffed.

Lucius sat on the bed and pulled Draco into his lap. "She is a selfish, shallow woman, Draco. She never deserved you as a son."

"Then why did you marry her?"

"I didn't think far enough ahead. I was looking for a wife my father would approve of, not a good mother for my children. It was foolish of me, Draco. I'm sorry."

"She never did care for me, did she?"

"I think, as her name implies, she has never cared for anyone but herself."

"Did you love her?"

"No. But I love you, Draco, no one but you." Draco raised his head and looked askance at Lucius.

Then he lay back down again, and after a protracted pause, asked, "Since when do you say rubbish like that?"

"Rubbish?" Lucius was offended. "You are the most precious thing in the world to me. I told you that before."

Draco snorted. "I'm your only heir, probably the only one you will ever have; of course I'm 'precious' to you."

"Is that what you think? No, Draco, you're precious to me because you're my son. I love you, why would you think otherwise?"

"Because... because everyone else hates me," Draco replied sullenly. Lucius could not tell if Draco was grabbing for attention or if he truly felt that way. It hurt to think that his son might really feel that alone.

"Nonsense, Professor Snape likes you," Lucius countered.

"I keep disappointing you. I lose at everything," Draco continued.

"Everything? A few quidditch games are not everything."

"Granger always beats me in grades."

"And you beat everyone else."

"I should be able to beat a mudblood."

"Maybe you are right, and the professors do favor her. Dumbledore probably wants to use her to try prove that purebloods are not superior."

"Professor Snape does not favor her, and she still gets better marks than me in potions."

"Ah, but Professor Snape does not have the final authority over grades given in his class; Dumbledore can override him if he wishes."

"She casts charms better and faster than I can."

"She..." this was ridiculous. "She is an aberration, Draco, pay her no mind."

"That's not what you said before. I should-" Lucius placed a finger across Draco's lips. This was a fruitless debate that Draco could not afford to waste his energy on. And, truth be told, Lucius did not have the answers to give him. By all rights, Draco should have the highest grades in his class. Lucius could not explain that mudblood girl's performance, and that bothered him.

"Hush, Draco," Lucius admonished, "Forget about her. She's beneath our notice, but even that is beside the point. My love for you is not conditional. I would love you no matter your marks."

Draco seemed to consider this before he sighed, "You shouldn't have to put up with me losing at everything."

"I still don't think you've established the 'everything' part."

"Name one thing I haven't lost at in the past year."

"You have earned and maintained the liking and respect of Severus Snape. I can think of no living person who has done that." Draco finally smiled.

"What about Dumbledore?"

"Severus respects him, but I do not think he likes him. Two Griffindorish, I suppose."

"Mm," Draco didn't have a response to that, which was just as well, because Dibby picked that very moment to pop into the room.

"What do you want?" Lucius snarled.

"Dibby is mostest s-sorry Master Lucius sir, but Master Lawyer Proust sir is here to see you sir. He says Master requested him to comeses sir."

"Escort him here, then go punish yourself for interrupting us."

"Yes, sir, Master, sir," Dibby replied tremulously, bowing and disappearing with a pop.

"The divorce papers?" Draco asked sleepily.

"Yes," Lucius replied. Lucius was finding it difficult to conjure up yesterday's anger at Narcissa with Draco lying, half asleep, in his lap. Lucius just sat and stroked Draco's hair, waiting for Proust. Proust, as usual, was all business. He nodded to Draco as he handed Lucius the papers, but did not comment on the fact that Draco was lying in Lucius' lap. Lucius kept stroking Draco's hair absentmindedly as he read the contract. It was short, explicit, and left no room for loopholes. Excellent.

Lucius signed it and handed it back to Proust. "Stop by Gringotts first and withdraw the money. Notify me when she signs it," Lucius said. Proust nodded and left.

"So that's it," Draco sighed, "I don't have a mother anymore. Maybe Potter and I should start a club."

"Don't be silly; you still have me."

"Mm."

"Now, Draco, I know you don't want to hear this..."

"What?"

"It's lunch time."

"Wonderful."

O~O~O~O~O

That night, Draco drank the dreamless sleep potion eagerly. He was asleep instantly, much to Lucius' relief. Lucius tucked Draco in, checked the heating charm on the blankets, and ordered Dibby to watch Draco while Lucius went to his office to write the note to Potter. He practiced the handwriting a few times before pulling out a sheet of cheap parchment and writing, "Harry, Moody is not who he seems. D.E.s close. Don't contact me, I'll contact you."

Lucius had debated how to sign the note. If he signed it in the wrong way, Potter could get suspicious. Lucius finally decided not to sign it at all; that would be consistent with the haste in which 'Black' was writing. Lucius then opened a window. There were always plenty of black crows and ravens on the Malfoy lands; they went with the manor so much better than small, colorful songbirds. Lucius cast a suggestus charm (a simple charm that, while mild to a sentient being, acts almost like the imperious on ordinary animals) on the nearest crow. Lucius folded the note hastily and handed it to the bird.

As the crow flew out of sight, Lucius pondered idly how long Riddle had left to live now that the trap had been set. But never mind, the Daily Prophet would answer that question soon enough, and there was no need for him to concern himself with Riddle any further. Lucius closed the window and walked to his bedroom to bathe and change his clothes before spending the night once again by Draco's bedside. Just before he left his office, Lucius remembered to remove his wedding band, as he was no longer married. It was a childish gesture, but he couldn't help tossing the ring into the fire. He did not stay to watch it melt.

O~O~O~O~O

Also that night, long after Draco had drunk his dreamless sleep potion, even after Lucius had fallen asleep in the chair next to Draco's bed, Percy Weasley was pacing the floor of Mr. Crouch's office. He shouldn't have officially been in there, but Mr. Crouch had needed a vacation very badly and someone had to make sure that cauldron bottoms were regulated and the Triwizard tournament was kept on track.

But at the moment, Percy was not worrying about cauldron bottoms, the Triwizard tournament, or any of the hundreds of thousands of things that the Department of International Magical Cooperation had reason to worry about. Tonight, he was worried about Lucius Malfoy going through Harry Potter's official file.

There wasn't much in there, just Harry's birth certificate and the official ministry explanation of what happened between Harry and You-Know-Who that fateful Halloween night. Why would Malfoy be interested in either of those documents? Percy had taken the liberty of reading both of them, and there was nothing in either of them that any first year didn't know. Percy feared that Malfoy had something sinister planned for Harry, perhaps linked with Harry being chosen as the fourth Triwizard champion (such a scandal!) but he couldn't for the life of him figure out what it was or what to do about it. All he had were vague suspicions. He finally decided that all he could do was keep his eyes and ears open and go to the proper authorities if anything unusual happened.

O~O~O~O~O

"Draco? Wake up; it's time for breakfast," Lucius shook Draco gently, but the boy didn't budge. The dreamless sleep potion had given Draco the rest he so badly needed, but now Lucius was having a devil of a time waking him. Lucius finally had to resort to his wand, "Rennervate!" he commanded Draco.

Wide, silver eyes blinked sleepily. "Oh, it's you," Draco groaned, "I'm not hungry." Draco closed his eyes and snuggled deeper into the blankets. By now Lucius suspected that Draco was testing him by being so stubborn. Draco wanted to see how far he could go before Lucius got angry. This was Lucius' chance to prove that Draco need not be afraid of him, and he was not going to waste it.

"Hungry or not, you still have to eat; healer's orders. You can go right back to sleep afterwards, all right?"

"No," Draco replied, pulling the comforter up over his head.

"Draco, you are being childish."

"So?" Draco's voice was muffled, but Lucius could hear the petulance in his tone.

"So, you can be more mature than this."

"I don't want to be mature; I'm too tired to be mature."

Lucius smiled; at least Draco wasn't as depressed as yesterday. "Well, if you want to act like a child, I'm glad to oblige." Lucius ripped the blankets away from Draco, and mindless of the boy's indignant protests, wrapped his arms around Draco's torso, trapping Draco's arms in his own. Lucius pulled Draco into a sitting position against his own chest and asked, "Now do you want to eat yourself or have me feed you?"

Draco glared at him hatefully, but he muttered, "I can do it myself."

"All right," Lucius replied mildly. He released Draco's arms, but he kept his own arms coiled around Draco's skinny waist. Draco stabbed his food vexatiously as he ate, but he continued to lean against Lucius.

"Aren't you going to eat?" Draco snapped.

"When you're done, precious. It will give me something to do while you sleep."

"You're mocking me. Stop it."

Lucius frowned, "I'm not mocking you, my dragon. Why would you think that?"

"Because you keep calling me 'precious'."

"Well, you are precious to me; we established that yesterday."

"You never answered the question of why."

"Yes, I did."

"Not to my satisfaction." Lucius sighed. "What do you want me to say, Draco? You are my son; it's as simple as that."

"But..."

"But what?"

"Nothing. I don't want to talk about this anymore." Draco sat up and tried to lean away from Lucius, but he didn't get far because of the arms around his waist. "Let go of me," Draco growled. Lucius removed his arms, but he did not get off the bed. Draco watched him warily out of the corner of his eye as he finished his breakfast.

"Now would you like to sleep some more, precious?" Lucius asked mildly. He wanted to gauge Draco's reaction to the endearment.

Draco paused pointedly before answering, "I want a shower, but I want to take it alone."

"You know I can't leave you alone, Draco."

"Why not?" Draco whined, "I explained about the cuts. You know I won't do it again. Don't you trust me?"

"I do; I do trust you, but I simply cannot take such a chance. You are very ill, you could fall and hit your head; you could fall asleep and drown... There are just too many possibilities."

Draco didn't have an answer to that; he just wrapped his arms around his waist and hung his head so that his ragged hair hid his face from Lucius. From the trembling in his slight shoulders, Lucius could tell that Draco was fighting off tears again. His poor dragon, he must feel so alone. Lucius wanted to help, but Draco kept pushing him away. Not that Lucius could blame him after all the pain that he had caused Draco. At the time, he had explained why he had to punish Draco like that, but how could he expect Draco to trust the word of someone who cast illegal curses on him? Lucius felt like such a fool; how could he help his son now when he had been too stupid to realize that cursing his own child was wrong?

But Lucius had no intentions of giving up his son; he was going to get through to him if it took years. Lucius slowly leaned towards Draco and wrapped his arms around Draco's waist. Draco tried to pull away, but Lucius would not let him. "It's all right, precious; I'm not going to hurt you. I love you, remember?"

"Then let go of me!" Draco sobbed. "Leave me alone!"

"No, my dragon. You've been alone far too much these past months." Draco gave a few more half-hearted attempts to pull away, but he didn't say anything. Eventually, he let Lucius pull him closer. Lucius stroked Draco's back gently while the boy cried. This time, when Draco's tears ran out, Lucius handed Draco a handkerchief so that Draco could wipe the tears away himself. After he took the cloth, Draco pulled away and put some distance between Lucius and himself. Lucius let him, having made his point.

Draco wiped his eyes with the handkerchief and muttered a sullen, "Thank you."

"It's all right, my dragon. Would you like a bath now?"

"That's not what I asked for, but okay," Draco pouted.

"I'll have to be with you," Lucius reminded him.

"I know." Lucius smiled at Draco and slid off the bed. Draco followed him slowly, nearly fainting again when he stood up. Lucius caught him and held him steady as he adjusted to the drop in blood pressure. Lucius considered carrying him to the bathroom, as he did when Draco had to use the facilities, but he hoped it would foster Draco's independence to let him walk the distance.

Once Draco recovered enough to lift his head, Lucius gently led him to the bathroom. Once they reached the tub, Draco pulled away from Lucius, steadying himself by hanging onto a silver plated towel rack. When he reached up to undo his dressing gown, he asked tiredly, "Can't you at least turn around while I undress?"

Lucius smiled and turned. He busied himself by starting the taps. Once the tub was filled, Lucius turned to help Draco into it. "Father!" Draco objected indignantly, yanking a black towel off the rack and holding it in front of his private parts. Glaring hatefully at Lucius, Draco sat on the edge of the tub. "Turn around!" he demanded.

Seeing that Draco was in little danger of hitting his head on the way to the tub, Lucius turned. He heard the splash of Draco sliding into the water and was about to turn around once more when something soft hit him on the back. Lucius spun around, startled, to find Draco hunched down in the water, watching him intently with wide, silver eyes. The towel that Draco had been covering himself with was at Lucius' feet. Lucius blinked then slowly retrieved the towel.

"Did you throw this at me?" he asked Draco, bemused. Draco's head immediately disappeared under the bubbles. What had gotten into the boy? Was he angry? Was he playing? Was he testing Lucius? Yes, that probably was it. Lucius knelt by the tub and said very clearly, "Draco, I am not angry with you, silly child. Come on up now, I don't want you to get light-headed."

After a moment or two, Draco lifted his head from the water, gasping for air. Lucius wiped the suds from around Draco's eyes with a washcloth and smiled at him. "Are you all right, precious?"

"Fine," Draco mumbled, "I don't know why I did that."

"It's all right; no harm done. Now can you wash your hair yourself or do you want me to help you?" Draco frowned.

O~O~O~O~O

Draco decided to take a nap before lunch. While he was sleeping, an owl arrived from Doctor Uberan warning them that he intended to arrive at 3:00. Lucius waited to tell Draco this after the boy had eaten; one conflict at a time was enough.

However, Draco surprised Lucius by not fighting him about lunch. "It's not as hard anymore," he offered at Lucius' surprised look. Lucius did not ask Draco to explain the ambiguous comment; he just smiled.

Once the dishes were cleared away, Lucius broke the news. "Doctor Uberan is coming to see you at three."

"No."

"Draco-"

"No. I don't want him touching me."

"He does not have to touch you. He will probably scan you, measure your weight, and tell you how good you've been fallowing his instructions."

"No, I don't want to see him."

"But why?"

"Because... I don't want him to! Isn't that enough?"

"Draco, this is important. I can't tell him not to examine you without a reason."

"He saw me! He saw what he did and I didn't want him to!" A few tears leaked out of Draco's eyes and he wiped them away angrily.

"He healed you. He wants to help you, precious; please let him."

"No! I... please, father; I don't want him to see me," Draco looked at Lucius with pleading eyes.

Lucius wanted to give into Draco, he truly did, but this was too important. He couldn't trust that Draco was really getting better to his impressions alone; he needed a professional's opinion. "Draco, he won't have to see you with your clothes off. I'll stay here and hold your hand. He won't touch you; I swear it. I need to know that you are recovering; please let him examine you."

"Don't let him touch me, father, please," Draco cried quietly.

Lucius pulled Draco into his lap once more and stroked the boy's shivering back. "He won't touch you, I promise. All will be well, my dragon, you'll see." Draco did not respond to that.

"Why don't you try to get some rest before he gets here?" Draco didn't move.

Lucius let Draco lie there, sniffling. Lucius handed Draco a handkerchief, which the boy toyed with absently. When Doctor Uberan arrived, Draco tensed but did not move or speak. As promised, Lucius held him protectively all throughout the exam, and ensured that Doctor Uberan never touched Draco. And as Lucius had expected, the news was positive.

"You're much better, Draco. You've gotten some rest, I see, and you've been eating as well. How are you feeling?" but Draco did not answer.

"It's all right if you don't feel like speaking to me, but if you are in pain you need to tell your father, all right?" Draco looked at the Doctor reproachfully, but he still did not speak.

Lucius intervened. "Are you done then?" he asked the doctor.

"Yes. Everything looks fine. I'll want to come back in a couple of weeks or so, but call on me before then if you have any concerns."

"Is that all right with you, Draco?" Lucius asked quietly.

"Fine," Draco pouted, looking pointedly away from Doctor Uberan.

"Thank you, Draco; you've been very good," Lucius praised. "I trust you can find your way out?" he asked the mediwizard without even looking up.

"Yes. I'll see you in a couple of weeks then, goodbye." Doctor Uberan left quietly. When the door closed behind him, Draco burst into tears.

O~O~O~O~O

Draco was almost too exhausted to drink his dreamless sleep potion that night, but fear of the nightmares ensured that he did. Lucius was near the end of his rope; after the doctor's visit, Draco had cried for almost half an hour. He didn't give any reason why, but he was clearly ashamed. When it came time to eat, his stubbornness returned. Lucius came dangerously close to yelling at the boy in frustration, and Draco seemed to sense it. He withdrew from Lucius, and the fear in his eyes broke Lucius' heart. Lucius tried to be as gentle and patient as possible, but he was neither gentle nor patient by nature and it took an enormous effort.

As soon as the dreamless sleep took effect Lucius ordered Dibby to watch Draco while Lucius took a long, hot bath. He changed into a dressing gown and settled himself into the now very familiar, green armchair by Draco's bed. And just like last night, Lucius fell asleep in that chair, too tired to care about the uncomfortable position.

* End Chapter 3 *


	4. Fear

Disclaimer: None of these characters are mine, which is just as well, because they keep ordering me around. Draco, especially, will not do what I want him to.

Precious

-Catspook

Chapter 4: Fear

Lucius woke about half an hour before he had to wake Draco. His back ached from sleeping in that infernal chair, and he walked around the room a few times, trying to work out the soreness. When that didn't work, he ordered Dibby to fetch a pain-relieving potion. He also ordered her to bring the Daily Prophet when it arrived; he wanted to see if Potter and his toadies had figured out the note yet.

Like yesterday, Draco was difficult to wake. He was less playful, though, and that was disappointing. He didn't speak, but ate breakfast without having to be told. Lucius did not know if Draco was tired or depressed or both, so he resorted to asking questions. "How are you feeling today? "

"Fine," Draco mumbled. His voice sounded odd, sort of muffled.

Lucius frowned. "Are you sure? You don't sound right."

Draco tried to answer, but he ended up sneezing instead. Lucius placed a hand on Draco's forehead; it felt warm. "I think you've caught a cold. I'm going to call on Doctor-"

"No!" Draco exclaimed, but the effort set him coughing harshly. Lucius held a glass pumpkin juice against Draco's lips and helped him take a few sips.

"Hush, Draco. I was just going to say that I need Doctor Uberan's approval to give you some pepperup. You won't have to see him, all right?"

"Fine," Draco pouted, his sinuses clearly clogged up.

Lucius had Dibby dispose of the dishes, and he pulled the curtains around Draco's bed so that the boy wouldn't see Doctor Uberan's face in the fire. Distracted by Draco's illness, Lucius simply tossed the newspaper onto the floor when Dibby timidly handed it to him. He did not so much as glance at it. "Doctor Uberan!" Lucius commanded quietly so Draco wouldn't hear.

"Lucius-"

"Keep your voice down; Draco is resting. I'm calling on you because he has caught a cold, and I need to know if it is safe to administer pepperup."

"What are his symptoms?"

"A mild fever, harsh cough, and congestion."

The doctor nodded, "Yes, pepperup should help with that, and I see no reason why he can't handle it. But don't give him any more than a dose. If the symptoms return, I'll have to pay him a visit."

"All right, then. Thank you, Augustus."

"Goodbye, Lucius. Tell Draco I hope he feels better." The spell ended and Lucius sent Dibby for a dose of the potion. He pulled back the curtains to find Draco lying on his side, pouting miserably. Lucius sat on the edge of the bed and stroked Draco's white-blond hair affectionately. "You'll feel better as soon as you have some pepperup." Draco just sniffed dejectedly.

A few minutes later, Dibby appeared with the potion. Lucius helped Draco sit up enough to drink then helped him lie down again as the smoke began pouring out of his ears. Lucius ordered Dibby to open the windows and Lucius conjured up a breeze to blow the smoke outside. Lucius did not want Draco breathing the stuff in his fragile health. Of course, due to the chill coming in from the open windows, he had to cast extra strong heating charms on the blankets, which he pulled up to Draco's chin. Draco fell asleep while the potion did its work, and Lucius finally had time to retrieve the paper. He smiled wryly at the headline.

_ESCAPED DEATH EATER FOUND TEACHING AT HOGWARTS! _

_-Rita Skeeter _

_To the shock of all the wizarding world, this illustrious reporter has discovered that Azkaban, the supposedly inescapable wizarding prison, was escaped not once, but twice since the downfall of He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named. This crack reporter was the first to bring you the story of the escape of mass murderer Sirius Black eighteen months ago, but not even my brilliant investigative skills could have deduced that Barty Crouch sr., Head of the Department of International Magical Cooperation, helped his son, convicted Death Eater Barty Crouch jr., escape the same prison 13 years ago, several months after Crouch sr. sentenced his son to life. _

_Even more shocking is that Hogwarts' ancient headmaster, Albus Dumbledore, had allowed Crouch jr. to kidnap and impersonate a Hogwarts professor, former auror Alastor "Mad-Eye" Moody, since last August! _

_Frankly, this reporter feels it her duty to propose that the aged Headmaster might be losing hold of both the management of the school and his sanity, assuming he was ever in possession of either. Amazingly, Crouch jr.'s true identity was discovered by none other than the fourth triwizard champion, fourteen-year-old Harry Potter! The boy-who-lived... _

Lucius skipped the lengthy paragraphs singing Potter's praises; he was under enough stress without having to read that rubbish. Finally, he came to the information he had been waiting for.

_After a bungling and likely illegal interrogation conducted by Dumbledore and accused former Death Eater Severus Snape, Crouch jr. has been arrested by the ministry to be once again interrogated, tried, and hopefully, for the good of the wizarding world, given the dementor's kiss. All that, of course, assuming that the infantile Minister Fudge manages to place Crouch in the custody of officers who will not allow him to escape again. _

Excellent, everything was going to plan. Lucius paused a moment to imagine Crouch's suffering, but it was oddly unsatisfying. Lucius had always been one for revenge, but this time he didn't feel that Crouch had gotten a fraction of what he deserved; there was nothing that could possibly be done that would have been fit punishment for what Crouch did to Draco. Lucius tossed the paper aside and sighed; what could he do? He guessed that all he could do was care for Draco as best he could. But Lucius knew that wasn't really good enough; Draco deserved better than that.

Eventually, the smoke from Draco's ears tapered off then stopped. Lucius closed the windows and terminated the wind charm. Draco slept on as Lucius started to pace restlessly, but Lucius was interrupted in his pacing by Draco's whimpers. Lucius sighed; Draco was having another nightmare. It was mild, however, and Draco woke when Lucius shook him. "Thank you," Draco muttered groggily.

Lucius hugged him. "Are you feeling better, precious?"

"Yeah, the pepperup helped. Thanks."

Lucius paused for a moment; he did not know if this was the right time to bring up Crouch, but Draco deserved to know what was going on. He knew no other way to say it than, "They arrested Crouch yesterday."

Draco did not cry; he did not even seem to react at all. He just sat there for a minute, silent and unmoving. Then he asked, "Will he be given the kiss?"

Lucius was very proud of Draco's strength. "Almost certainly."

"And if he isn't, could he escape again?"

"No. His father helped him escape last time; I'm sure that no one would be willing to do that now. Furthermore, the chance of him not getting the kiss is very small. He can't hurt you anymore."

"And the Dark Lord?"

"I suspect that that old fool Dumbledore is eliminating him as we speak." Draco didn't reply to that. He just sat and toyed with his fingers for a few minutes.

"Are you all right?" Lucius asked him. Draco looked up at Lucius with sad eyes but didn't say anything. Lucius once again took the boy into his arms, and Draco cuddled close, his eyes closed tightly against whatever it was he was feeling.

O~O~O~O~O

"I'm bored," Draco complained after lunch that day.

"Why don't you get some more rest?" Lucius offered.

Draco pouted dramatically, "I'm not sleepy. And I don't want any more nightmares."

"Hm," Lucius tried to think of an activity that would not be too strenuous for Draco. "How about chess?"

"All right. But not the French set; they don't like me." Lucius smiled.

"Are you up to commanding the Latin set or do you want the English one?"

"English."

"All right." Lucius commanded Dibby to fetch the chess set from his office. When she returned, Lucius set up the board on the tray from lunch, now cleared of dishes. "Do you want to be black or green?" he asked Draco, placing the marble and serpentine figures on the board.

"Green. The black king has an attitude."

"I do not, you feeble-minded swine!" the black king screeched.

"Don't call him that!" Lucius snarled.

"It's all right, father," Draco smiled shyly, "He's just a rock."

"Well, he shouldn't speak to you like that. No one should speak to you like that," Lucius replied defensively.

Draco blushed. "It's okay, really." The pieces arranged themselves on the board appropriately. "Um... pawn to D5," Draco commanded, pointedly looking at the board and not Lucius. Lucius could tell that Draco was embarrassed, but at least he was staring to believe that Lucius cared about him. Lucius smiled inwardly and turned his attention to the game.

O~O~O~O~O

"I'm sick of soup," Draco whined. "And quit laughing at me!" he huffed when Lucius smiled.

Lucius stopped smiling. "I'm not laughing at you, Draco. I'm simply happy to see you acting like yourself. And if you don't want soup, you don't have to have soup."

"I want ice cream, and what do you mean acting like myself? What do I act like?"

"You can't have just ice cream and you act like... you're sure to make you opinion known."

"You mean I whine, and what do you mean I can't have ice cream?" Draco pouted.

"I did not say you can't have ice cream, I said you couldn't have *just* ice cream."

"So you think I do?"

"Do what?"

"Whine."

"Of course not. You assert yourself. And what do you want besides ice cream?"

"You're lying to me, and I don't care as long as it isn't soup."

Lucius sighed, "I am not lying to you."

"Yes, you are. You're patronizing me. You think I can't figure out what you mean, but I can."

"And what exactly is it that you think I mean?"

"You think I whine." Lucius put his head in his hands; Draco could be absolutely impossible when he got like this.

"Father?" Draco asked, suddenly timid, "You're not angry with me, are you, father?" Lucius looked up, Draco had huddled deeper under the blankets and was watching Lucius with wide eyes over the edge of the comforter.

"Of course I'm not angry with you, my dragon; I'm just tired."

"Maybe you should sleep in your own bed tonight."

"No, I won't leave you alone."

"It's okay, really. Sleeping in that chair can't be good for your back."

Lucius arched and eyebrow. "My back? Just how old do you think I am?" Draco scooted even further under the blankets.

"Sorry, father." Lucius sighed inwardly; Draco may have accepted that Lucius cared for him, but he still seemed afraid of him. Lucius did not know if Draco's fear was the result of Crouch's attack or what Lucius had done in the past, but he did not capable of broaching that subject right now; so he let it go.

"How about pasta for dinner?" Lucius asked, placing a hand on Draco's pale hair.

"Okay," Draco pouted.

O~O~O~O~O

"Here is your potion," Lucius handed Draco the goblet of dreamless sleep, and the boy took it hesitantly. "Go on, drink it."

"Are you sure you'll be all right in that chair?"

"Don't worry; I'll be fine. Now drink."

"All right." Draco emptied the goblet dutifully, instantly falling asleep against the pillows. Lucius smiled fondly as he rearranged the pillows and tucked Draco in. He then once again ordered Dibby to watch the boy while he went to his own rooms to bathe and change clothes.

Lucius' own rooms were even more luxurious than Draco's, decorated in black, white, and silver. He selected a simple, black and green robe from the enormous wardrobe and walked to the bathroom. When he'd inherited the manor, Lucius had installed a new bathtub modeled after the one in the prefects' bathroom at Hogwarts; he had grown quite attached to that tub after two years as a prefect and a year as head boy. Lucius' tub, however, was black marble with silver plated fixtures and inlaid with a serpentine and white opal snake pattern. He turned on the water, added bubbles made with a calming potion, and sank languidly into the warm bath. As he washed his long hair, he tried to think of what to say the next time Draco reacted to him with fear.

Lucius climbed out of the tub when his fingers started to wrinkle, without having come up with anything to say to Draco. He toweled off, wrapped the cloth around his waist and reached for his wand so that he could cast a drying charm on his hair. But in his distraction and fatigue, he did not remember how slippery the wet marble could be. He leaned too far forward, lost his grip, and fell, hitting his head on the side of the tub. He collapsed on the floor unconscious, a pool of blood forming around his head.

O~O~O~O~O

"Father! Father, please wake up! Oh, please, father, wake up, please!" Lucius thought that he could hear his son's voice, though it sounded very far away, but the distress he could detect in the boy's tone made him try to make out the words. "Please, father! Wake up, please!"

Wake up? But he wasn't asleep, was he? He decided to open his eyes to see if he was asleep or not. "Oooh," Lucius couldn't help but groan in pain when the cruel light attacked his eyes. But it was, apparently, what Draco had been so desperately begging to hear.

"Father? Father, can you hear me? Please, say something, father." Lucius could hear the tears in Draco's voice.

His poor boy, he had already been through so much... wait a minute, "What are you doing out of bed?" Lucius growled.

"Father? Oh, father, I was so scared," Draco sobbed, "I woke up and you weren't there, and I thought that you were sleeping in your own bed, and I came in to check, and you weren't there, and I looked in here and I saw the blood, and I thought you were dead, and-"

"Hush, my dragon." Lucius opened his eyes again and tried to sit up. Draco tried to help him, but Lucius waved him off; he did not want the boy exerting himself. Lucius propped himself up using the side of the bathtub for leverage. He felt something sticky on the floor and he raised one hand to look; it was blood.

He looked at Draco, who still had tears pouring down his face. The boy's eyes were red and puffy; he had obviously been crying for some time. Lucius had no time to think about what to say to him, however, because just then Doctor Uberan entered the bathroom. "Dear Merlin, Lucius! What happened to you?"

"I fell..." Lucius replied vaguely, then snapped, "What are you doing here?"

"Your house elf appeared in my office and told me that you were dying. I'm happy to see that she was overreacting. Hold still so I can scan you." Uberan ran his wand about an inch above Lucius' body, focusing on his head, while Draco huddled against the side of the tub, sniffling. When Uberan was finished with his scan, Lucius pulled Draco into his arms before asking for the diagnosis.

"You have a concussion from the fall and few bruises. I should be able to heal everything easily once you're in bed." Doctor Uberan then helped Lucius to his feet and led him to the bedroom. Lucius tried to discourage Draco from helping, but Draco refused to be separated from his father. When they reached the bed, Draco finally let go (Lucius suspected that Draco wanted to put some distance between himself and Doctor Uberan) and stood off to the side, wringing his hands nervously until Lucius told him to go sit on the foot of the bed. Draco watched anxiously while Doctor Uberan wove healing spells and forced Lucius to drink potion after potion.

"Get some rest and take it easy for a few days, but after that, you should be fine," Uberan told Lucius when he was finished. He then offered to scan Draco once more, but the boy's eyes widened so alarmingly that Lucius immediately refused. "All right then. Call me if anything else happens."

Once Uberan was gone, Lucius called to Draco, "Come here, precious." Draco was at Lucius' side in a second, clinging to him tightly.

"Oh, father, I was so scared," he sobbed into Lucius' shoulder.

Lucius wrapped his arms around Draco's trembling body and tried to comfort him. "It's all right, I'm fine. Shhh, it's all right..." But as upset as Lucius was that he has frightened Draco so, he could not help but be touched by the worry Draco had shown for him. There wasn't anyone else in the world that cared about Lucius like that. In fact, Draco was probably the only person in the world who cared about Lucius at all.

Draco's crying tapered off quickly, and he looked up at Lucius with his large, shimmering eyes. "Aren't you cold, father?"

Cold? Lucius suddenly realized that he was wearing nothing except the towel he had wrapped around his waist last night. "Yes."

"I'll get you a some clothes-"

"No. You stay right there."

"But-"

"I mean it. Stay here." Lucius pushed himself into a sitting position on the side of the bed and yelled for Dibby to fetch him a dressing gown. He dressed then climbed under the blankets, taking Draco with him. The boy cuddled close, and Lucius knew that he should have ordered him to have breakfast, but he had neither the heart nor the energy to do it.

O~O~O~O~O

Lucius awoke around noon, his arms still wrapped around Draco. Draco was awake, his eyes half-lidded and staring into space, but he looked at Lucius solemnly when Lucius moved to sit up.

"Are you all right, father?" Draco asked softly.

Lucius smiled and ran a hand through Draco's hair. "I'm fine. How are you feeling?"

Draco shrugged. "Fine."

"Are you hungry?"

Draco blinked. "Actually, yes."

Miracle of miracles. Lucius smiled, "What would you like?"

"Something with chocolate."

"Chocolate? Only desserts have chocolate. What else do you want?"

"Chocolate chip pancakes aren't desserts."

"Chocolate chip pancakes? There's no such thing."

"Yes, there is; they have them at Hogwarts on Saturdays."

Lucius stared at him. "For how long?"

"Since first year."

"Have you started losing your teeth yet?"

Draco smiled. "Very funny, but I want chocolate chip pancakes."

"You're sure?"

Draco rolled his eyes. "Yes."

"Well, all right." Lucius yelled for Dibby and ordered lunch for the two of them. Draco had to explain the chocolate chip pancakes to her. Dibby also delivered the newspaper. Lucius held the paper so that Draco could read the headline as well.

_RETURN OF YOU-KNOW-WHO FOILED BY DUMBLEDORE AND BOY-WHO-LIVED! _

_-Rita Skeeter _

_This talented investigator was the first to discover that, as unbelievable as it may seem, He-Who-Must-Not-be-Named was, in fact, not destroyed thirteen years ago by the Boy-Who-Lived, Harry Potter. Sources now reveal that the dark wizard was merely extremely weakened when the killing curse he cast on Harry Potter rebounded off the boy and robbed the most feared wizard of our time of his physical body. According to the ministry, He-Who-Must-Not-be-Named's spirit worked his way to the forests of Albania, where he murdered ministry employee Bertha Jorkins. He was then aided in returning to Britain by a rogue Death Eater, whose identity had not been revealed. _

"Who was it, father?" Draco asked quietly.

"I don't think I should tell you that. People might ask questions if you know things others don't. I won't risk it."

"Oh."

_The Location of You-Know-Who was discovered by the great Albus Dumbledore (who, you will recall, defeated the dark wizard Grindewald in 1945) when he interrogated Barty Crouch jr., the Death Eater who was discovered at Hogwarts two days ago. Crouch's goal, it has now been revealed, was to kidnap the fourteen-year-old Harry Potter so that his blood could be used to return You-Know-Who to his physical body. As this illustrious reporter revealed yesterday, Crouch was discovered by his intended victim, the Boy-Who-Lived. _

_After this information came to light, Dumbledore traveled alone to You-Know-Who's location to destroy him once and for all. As far as can be determined, the final battle took place last evening, and the dark wizard's spirit was utterly destroyed before ministry officials arrived at the scene at nine o'clock. _

_The unidentified Death Eater has been arrested and held for trial alongside Crouch jr. The ministry has assured us that the purpose of the trial is not to determine guilt (which is obvious) or sentencing (they will both receive the dementor's kiss) but to bring to light all facts surrounding the activities of He-Who-Must-Not-be-Named for the last thirteen years. The Daily Prophet, and this crack investigator, will be sure to deliver all the facts as they unfold. _

"You did that," Draco commented breathlessly.

"Did what?"

"You killed the Dark Lord."

"Yes."

"For me."

Lucius smiled. "Yes."

* End Chapter 4*


	5. Confusion

Disclaimer: None of these characters are mine, which is just as well, because they keep ordering me around. Draco, especially, will not do what I want him to.

Precious

-Catspook

Chapter 5: Confusion

What a day! Although he himself had not been called to the scene, Percy had been kept more than busy by You-Know-Who's unexpected reappearance. Percy, along with half a dozen other ministry officials from various departments, had been sent to Hogwarts after the ministry interrogation of Crouch jr.

They had been ordered to discern what Dumbledore had discovered from his own interrogation of the Death Eater. However, when they arrived, they had found Dumbledore gone, off to face You-Know-Who, and everyone but Percy had returned to report to the Ministry. Percy had stayed behind to wait for Dumbledore's return and (as per him mum's request) make sure that Fred, George, Ron, Ginny, Hermione, and especially Harry were all right.

But Percy had another reason to stay. Barty Crouch jr. had revealed under veritaserum that You-Know-Who had kidnapped Percy's mentor, Mr. Crouch sr., and tortured him, but Mr. Crouch (brave Mr. Crouch!) had managed to escape. The Department of International Magical Cooperation had been temporarily suspended, and Percy, as Crouch's assistant, had been put in charge of finding him.

Percy desperately hoped that Mr. Crouch was still alive, but he also felt incredibly guilty. He should have known that there was something off about those instructions from Mr. Crouch! At the moment, the moment being 2:38 am, Percy was rummaging through the Hogwarts library trying to find a useful tracking spell. Hogwarts had the best library of magic in Britain, and it was probably Percy's only chance of finding Mr. Crouch alive.

Percy was so engrossed in his search that he didn't hear Ron and Harry walking up behind him until, "Percy? Percy? HEY, PERCY!"

"Ah!" Percy jumped, badly startled. "Ron! What are you doing out of bed! It's past two a.m.!"

"Dumbledore's back," Ron answered, "You-Know-Who is dead. Again." Harry seemed very quiet and subdued.

Percy nodded. "Good. Go on to bed, now. Mum will be worried."

"That's not all, Perce. They found Mr. Crouch."

Percy dropped the book he was holding. "Is he alive?"

"Yeah, but he's beat up pretty bad. He's in the hospital wing."

"The hospital wing? Here?"

"Yeah. Hagrid found him on the edges of the Forbidden Forest."

"Oh, thank Merlin," Percy sighed. He returned the book he had dropped to the shelf as he said, "Thank you for telling me, but you should both go back to bed now. I suspect that classes will be canceled tomorrow, but you should still get some sleep."

Ron nodded, unusually complaint (well, it was past two in the morning after all), "G'night, Perce."

"Good night." They left without another word.

If Percy hadn't been so distracted, he might have wondered why Harry was so quiet, but he was thinking only of Mr. Crouch. When he got to the hospital wing, Madam Pomfrey had finished with Mr. Crouch, and all Percy could do was wait for him to wake up. As Percy waited in the chair by Mr. Crouch's bed, it occurred to him that he should inform the ministry that Mr. Crouch had been found alive, but he didn't know how to do it without leaving Mr. Crouch's side. His dilemma was solved, however, when Mr. Crouch's former house elf (Winnie? Wicky? Winky!) suddenly appeared.

The creature had obviously been crying for some time, and she burst into new tears when she saw Mr. Crouch. "Master Crouch sir!" She started wailing, but Percy immediately shushed her.

"Shhh! Mr. Crouch needs his rest. But you can do something to help him, all right?"

The elf stopped crying and looked at Percy hopefully. "Yes, sir! Winky would to anything to help Master Crouch, sir!"

"All right. I'm going to write a letter to the Ministry to tell them that Mr. Crouch has been found, and I'll need you to take it to the owlry and send it for me."

"Yes, sir! Winky will do what you ask, sir! Right away, sir!"

"Good, just wait a minute while I write." Percy dug a quill, inkpot, and parchment out of his pocket (he was never without these vital bureaucratic tools) and wrote a quick letter to the ministry. Winky immediately popped away with it, and Percy put his head in his hands, finally admitting to himself how exhausted he was.

O~O~O~O~O

Draco awoke alone. Well, not exactly alone; Dibby was on the floor by his bed, but Lucius was gone, and that was worrisome. Draco could also tell by the brightness of the light outside that it was late in the morning, later than when his father should have woken him for breakfast. "Dibby!" he yelled, startling the sleeping house elf.

"Yeses, master Draco, sir?" she groveled.

"Where's father?"

"Dibby is not knowing, sir. Master Lucius sir was telling Dibby to watches master Draco while Master Lucius was taking a bath, sir. Dibby is not seeing master Lucius after that."

Draco nodded; his father had probably decided to sleep in his own bed, and ended up sleeping late. Draco pushed back the blankets and slowly levered himself out of bed. "Master Draco, sir?" Dibby asked nervously.

"What?"

"Should Master Draco be doing that, sir? Master Draco, sir, is very ill, sir."

Draco frowned. "I'll do as I like. Now go hit yourself, or something."

"Yeses, sir," Dibby whimpered and disappeared. Draco took a moment to collect himself, then slowly made his way across the room. The walk down the hallway was a long one, and he paused for a long moment before opening his father's bedroom door. Lucius was not in his bed, and it didn't look like he had been, either. Draco glanced around in confusion until he spied the door to the bathroom. He ran to it, opening the mahogany door cautiously. Lucius was on the floor, lying in a pool of blood.

"Oh, father! Father, please wake up! Please wake up, please..."

O~O~O~O~O

"Perce? Wake up, Perce."

"Hm?" Percy blinked sleepily, surprised to find himself in a sitting position, his head resting on his folded arms. Then he remembered Mr. Crouch. He glanced at his mentor, who was still asleep, and looking relatively healthy, if a little gaunt.

"Percy? Are you all right?"

"Mum? Dad?" Mrs. Weasley rushed over and hugged Percy so tightly that he was certain there would be bruises. Mr. Weasley just stood back, looking tired. "What are you doing here?"

"We came to make sure everyone was all right," Mrs. Weasley explained, "How are you?"

"Fine. Now that we've found Mr. Crouch, fine. How's everyone else?"

"Ginny and the twins are fine," Mr. Weasley answered, "But we decided to let Ron and Harry have a lie-in considering how late they were up last night."

"How did you know they were up late?"

"Professor McGonagall told us," Mrs. Weasley replied, "The poor dears, they must be exhausted. And I'm especially worried about Harry."

"Why? I mean, with You-Know-Who dead, it must be a relief for him."

"Well, yes, but this whole business with Barty jr-"

"Uh, mum?" Percy gestured to Mr. Crouch. He didn't want his mentor to wake up and be reminded of his recent trauma. And Percy *certainly* didn't want his mother to be the one to do the reminding.

"Oh, right. Percy, dear, why don't you come down to the Great Hall and have breakfast with everyone?"

"Um, thanks, but I think I should stay with Mr. Crouch."

Mrs. Weasley frowned. "Are you sure? Don't you want to be with your family?"

"Of course, but, well, there's no one else to stay with Mr. Crouch," Percy had sent Winky away because she couldn't seem to control her loud crying, "I don't want to leave him alone."

"Oh. Well, all right, then. But promise me you'll eat something," Mrs. Weasley doted.

Percy blushed. He didn't know why he was embarrassed by his mum's concern - and he felt rather guilty for feeling that way - but he still thought it was more important to stay with Mr. Crouch.

Mr. and Mrs. Weasley left. Percy sat silently until another house elf appeared with breakfast. Percy ate absently, and was surprised to find that, twenty minutes later, he had finished everything on the tray. He'd had no idea that he was that hungry. As Percy was wiping the grease off his hands, he heard moaning coming from Mr. Crouch's bed. "Mr. Crouch? Are you awake?"

"Weasley?" Percy smiled; Mr. Crouch had remembered his name!

"Yes, sir. How are you feeling?"

"Fine, fine. How did I get here?"

"Rubeus Hagrid found you by the edge of the forest last night."

"How is the Potter boy?" Crouch demanded, struggling into a sitting position. Percy, of course, tried to help him, but Crouch just waved him off.

"Harry? He's fine."

"Where is he right now?"

"Gryffindor tower, having a lie in, I believe."

"And where is Professor 'Moody'?" Crouch asked with a sneer.

"Do you mean the real Moody or..."

"My son," Crouch growled, "He was discovered?"

"Yes. By Harry Potter, actually."

"And where is my son?"

"Azkaban by now, I'm sure."

"Wait... if you caught him, what of He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named?"

"Dead. Dumbledore defeated him last night."

"Any from our side hurt?"

"Not that I know of, but all I heard of the last battle was that Dumbledore won."

"So when are the aurors coming for me?"

Percy's eyes went as wide as saucers, "What? Why would the aurors come for you?"

"If they caught my son, you should know why. I'm sure they asked him how he got out of Azkaban in the first place."

"Well, yes, but..." Percy didn't want Mr. Crouch to go to prison! It was true he made some mistakes, but... "I think the aurors are busy rounding up the last of the Death Eaters. Maybe you should get some rest, Mr. Crouch."

Mr. Crouch looked pointedly at Percy, and Percy was afraid of receiving one of Mr. Crouch's famous tongue-lashings, but Mr. Crouch didn't say anything, he just flopped back down tiredly. "So you're here to guard me until the aurors come?"

"Of course not, I just..." Percy trailed off. He didn't know how to say what he wanted to say, or even if saying it was appropriate. And didn't seem to be acting like himself.

"Yes?"

"Well, I wanted to make sure you were all right."

"Right," Mr. Crouch said dryly.

"You don't believe me?" Mr. Crouch didn't answer. He just lay on the bed stiffly and stared at the ceiling.

After many minutes of uncomfortable silence, Percy blurted out, "I'm sorry."

Mr. Crouch gave him an odd look. "What on Earth for?"

"I should have known that there was something wrong with those instructions you kept sending. I should have followed up on it; gone to your house or something."

"That would have been a violation of Ministry policy."

"Well," and this was very hard for Percy to admit, "Maybe Ministry policy isn't always right." Mr. Crouch laughed wryly.

"Hard to admit; isn't it, Weasley?"

"Yes," Percy relied sincerely.

"But it's never wrong when we want it to be," Mr. Crouch sighed.

"What?"

"Never mind, Weasley. Now tell me, how exactly did Barty get caught?"

"Well..."

O~O~O~O~O

"Ugh, I feel sick," Draco moaned.

"I told you the chocolate chip pancakes were a bad idea," Lucius smirked. Draco pouted.

"They never made me sick before."

"Did you pour a quart of syrup over them before?"

Draco glared at him. "It wasn't the syrup. I was all that soup you made me drink; it ruined my stomach," he whined.

"So it's my fault, then?" Lucius teased.

"Yes."

"Well, then I'm sorry. Is there anything I can do to make it better?"

"No."

"Oh, my poor dragon," Lucius sighed melodramatically, pulling Draco into his lap. Draco curled up into the fetal position and let Lucius stroke his hair. Lucius smiled as Draco pouted harder; he could tell that Draco was actually reveling in the attention.

O~O~O~O~O

The day had been very uncomfortable for Percy. Mr. Crouch had made a valid point about the aurors; once things calmed down, they probably would come to arrest him. Mr. Crouch himself was still in pretty rough shape, and he was confined to his bed in the hospital wing. Percy was resolved to stay by Mr. Crouch's bedside until he was better, but Mr. Crouch was becoming increasingly distant and depressed, and that was taking a toll on Percy.

Furthermore, Percy's family had been confused by and disapproving of Percy's loyalty to Mr. Crouch, and Percy didn't know what to say to them. Percy didn't know why he was the only one to worry about Mr. Crouch, but he was. At the moment, Mr. Crouch was asleep, and he would stay that way if the two doses of dreamless sleep potion he had taken had anything to say about it. And that was good, because the twins then decided to run into the hospital wing yelling, "Perce! Perce, guess what!"

"Shhh! Mr. Crouch is sleeping!" Percy hissed.

"Sorry, Perce."

"But you are never going to believe this!"

"What?"

"Sirius Black is innocent!"

"And Peter Pettegrew was Scabbers!"

"What! That's impossible!"

"No, it's not. You see, Pettegrew was the secret keeper all along, and he framed Sirius for killing all those muggles."

"And they're both animagi. Pettegrew, you see, is a rat, and that's why Scabbers lived so long."

"How do you know this?" Percy asked, dazed.

"Pettegrew was with You-Know-Who when Dumbledore killed him."

"And the ministry just finished interrogating him and they declared Sirius innocent! And that's not the best part..."

"What else?"

"Since Sirius is Harry's godfather, Harry doesn't have to go back to the Dursleys!"

"Isn't that cool?"

"Yeah," Percy replied vaguely. Scabbers? Percy's first pet, that poor, starving rat he found in Diagon Alley, was a murderer?

But the twins had continued to talk, "Mum and Dad are leaving."

"Mum wants you to come see 'em before they do."

"All right... Mr. Crouch should be fine for a few minutes..." Percy was too distracted to notice the twins roll their eyes. Percy followed the twins down to the front doors, still in shock.

"Percy, are you all right?" Mrs. Weasley asked, "You're as white as a sheet!"

"Yeah... I'm fine, mum."

"Are you sure? I know you've been working too hard. You should come home, at least for the night, and get some rest."

"No. No, I can't."

"Percy..."

"No, Mum, I can't; there's still no one else to stay with Mr. Crouch. It's my responsibility."

"All right, but I want you to take some time off after this whole thing is over."

"Mum-"

"No buts, Percival Weasley," Mrs. Weasley said sternly. "You work entirely too hard; you are going to make yourself seriously ill one of these days."

Percy hung his head, "Yes, Mum."

"Good boy." Mrs. Weasley hugged him; Percy hugged back, although he was unaware of doing so.

Mr. and Mrs. Weasley left shortly after that, but not before Mrs. Weasley had imparted more motherly wisdom to Harry, who was being unusually quiet. "Now, Harry dear, be sure to get some sleep tonight. I'm sure your godfather is all right."

Why wouldn't he be? Percy wondered, he was just granted his freedom. But Percy didn't say anything; it really was none of his business. Once his parents were gone, Percy returned to the hospital wing while Hermione herded everyone else back to Gryffindor tower.

O~O~O~O~O

"Doctor Uberan told you to take it easy, father. I'm sure that includes spending the night in bed, preferably yours."

Lucius frowned, "So we're back to that, are we? Draco, I'm just fine. Now drink your potion."

"Not until you promise me you'll go back to your own bed and go to sleep."

"No. This is a half dose; you can't have more or you could get addicted to the potion. I refuse to leave you alone tonight."

"But I can't sleep if I'm worried about you."

Lucius smiled, "I thank you for your concern, but you are more important. Now drink."

"But-"

"Drink."

"But-"

"Now."

Draco pouted dramatically, but took the goblet. He gave Lucius a dirty look before downing the potion. It took longer for him to fall asleep than before, probably because of the reduced dosage. Lucius tucked him in and, regardless of Draco's petulant behavior, stroked Draco's hair soothingly until he fell asleep.

O~O~O~O~O

"Please...please...stop, please…get off me!" Draco's pained moaning escalated into a terrified shriek, despite Lucius' desperate attempts to wake him.

"Draco, wake up! You're safe here; wake up!" Lucius tried to shake Draco awake, but he was too busy trying to keep a hold of Draco's flailing wrists to do it properly. Lucius finally screamed for Dibby and ordered the horrid creature to toss a bowl of cold water over Draco's head.

Draco jolted awake, gasping and sputtering. Lucius immediately cast a drying charm on Draco, himself, and the bed, then gathered Draco into his arms and rubbed the boy's back vigorously to warm him up.

Draco clung to Lucius, sobbing brokenly. "Shh, it's all right, precious... it's okay... you're safe now... shh..." Lucius rocked Draco gently, trying to calm him down. Eventually, Draco's crying dissolved into a rather bad case of hiccups, and Lucius had Dibby bring him a potion to stop them.

"Here you are, drink this." After he drained the vial, Draco leaned against Lucius' chest, totally exhausted. Lucius tried to tuck him back in, but Draco grabbed a hold of Lucius' robes and refused to let go.

"Please, father, don't leave. Stay with me."

"Don't worry, I'll be right here."

"No, stay with me. Please."

"All right." At least Draco was reaching out to him now. Lucius kicked off his shoes and climbed under the covers. Draco immediately cuddled close, whimpering softly. "Shhh, it's all right. Go to sleep, my dragon." Draco drifted off shortly after that, but for Lucius, sleep was much longer in coming.

* End Chapter 5 *


	6. Regret

Disclaimer: None of these characters are mine, which is just as well, because they keep ordering me around. Draco, especially, will not do what I want him to.

Precious

-Catspook

Chapter 6: Regret

"Woof! Woof! Woof!" An enormous, shaggy, black dog ran into the Great Hall during breakfast the next morning. The students, and some of the staff, were then shocked to witness the dog morph into a tall, thin, filthy man with shaggy black hair who was yelling, "Harry! Harry!"

Stranger still, Harry Potter, who despite his fame was universally known by the student body for being rather quiet and well behaved in public, yelled, "Sirius!" and dove into the man's arms.

The man, who many now recognized as Sirius Black (his declaration of innocence by the Ministry had been the cover story of that morning's Daily Prophet), lifted Harry up and swung him around, grinning happily. "Harry! I'm free! And it's all..." Sirius trailed off when he realized that Harry was not laughing, but rather sobbing and clinging to Sirius desperately. "Harry, kiddo, what's wrong?"

"Oh, Sirius, I was so scared! I thought that the Death Eaters had caught you!"

"Why would you think that?" Harry looked at him, his green eyes wide and confused behind his glasses.

"Your note said that the Death Eaters were close. I was afraid that they were after you for sending me that information about Crouch."

"What? Harry, I never sent you any information about Crouch."

"But the note..." Harry dug around in his pocket, but Sirius had to put him down before he could pull out the note.

Sirius frowned. "I never sent you this, Harry."

"What? But... if you didn't, who did?"

Sirius shrugged. "I don't know. But never mind that; I'm free! You can come live with me now. I mean, if you still want to-"

Harry launched himself at Sirius again and nearly knocked him over. "Of course I do!"

Sirius laughed and ruffled Harry's flyaway hair. "Great! I can stay with Moony until I can get the house ready, and..."

"Uh, Sirius?"

"Yeah?"

"Everyone is staring at us."

Sirius finally looked around, and Harry was right. The usually boisterous Great Hall was completely silent, and every student and staff member was staring at Sirius in shock. Except for Dumbledore, of course; he was smiling at them, his blue eyes twinkling brightly.

Sirius waved awkwardly and said, "Uh, good morning, everyone." Nobody moved, until a very petite boy with blond, curly hair whipped out a camera. The flash momentarily blinded Sirius, but he could hear the Great Hall erupt into chaos.

Dumbledore had to shower the students with sparks to prevent a riot. "Quiet, everyone! Classes are set to begin an a few minutes anyway, so why don't we give Mr. Potter some time alone with his godfather, shall we?"

As Sirius blinked his vision clear, he saw the students slowly get to their feet and trickle out the front doors. He continued to hold Harry in his arms; he was wary of some of the suspicious and accusing looks some of the students (especially Hufflepuffs, for some odd reason) were sending Harry. The Ravenclaw, Beauxbatons, and Durmstrang students were the first to leave, followed by the majority of the Slytherins and Hufflepuffs. The Gryffindors got up to leave only after Harry smiled at them and told them everything was fine.

Sirius exchanged some friendly words with Ron and Hermione and was introduced to Ginny and the twins while the students continued to filter out. Many of the professors left as well; to prepare for their classes, Sirius supposed. The twins and Ginny left after McGonagall gave them a pointed look (she hadn't changed a bit since Sirius' own school days), but Ron and Hermione stayed.

Everything seemed to be progressing smoothly until a Hufflepuff boy (who Harry later identified as Ernie MacMillan) started yelling at Harry and Sirius, "Been consorting with the enemy, Potter? I suppose that's how you knew about Crouch. Eliminating the competition, are we?"

Sirius glared at the boy, but that seemed to make matters worse. "See that?" the boy screeched, "He's threatening me! I don't care what the paper says! He should be locked up!"

Sirius was growing more and more angry, and Harry could obviously tell, as he tightened his grip on Sirius' arms. Unexpectedly, a tall, slender, darkly tanned boy (a Slytherin, Sirius was surprised to note) stepped between them, raised his hands in a non-threatening gesture, and said, "Why don't you calm down, MacMillan, and leave Potter alone."

In response, MacMillan flushed in anger, and impulsively drew his wand on the Slytherin. "Hey, relax, MacMillan!" the Slytherin warned.

"All you Slytherins are in it together, aren't you!" MacMillan snarled and began a curse. Another Slytherin (a tall girl with blonde hair) tried to snatch the wand from his hand, but she wasn't quite fast enough. The curse missed the tan boy, but struck his book bag head on, causing books and assorted items to scatter all over the floor. Muggle items.

"Bugger!" the tan boy huffed, while the blonde girl sighed heavily.

"What's this?" MacMillan accused, "Gathering information? Planning some muggle baiting?"

"Oh will you shut up?" A second blonde Slytherin girl sighed, kneeling to help gather the items, "We're not Death Eaters."

"And why should we believe you?"

"Because we are muggle-borns you idiot!" she shouted.

Silence. "Twenty points from Hufflepuff, MacMillan," Professor McGonagall sighed, "And report to my office directly after dinner. Now go to class before I take more points." Speechless, MacMillan complied.

Hermione walked over to help gather up the boy's things. Harry, Sirius, and Ron followed, while McGonagall waved any remaining students on to class.

"Are you really muggle-born?" Hermione asked, handing the boy several colorful pens.

"Yeah. Thanks."

"Thanks for that," Harry said, gathering several magazines.

"Thanks for blowing old snake-face's plan," The boy replied with a crooked grin, "We'd have been the first on the chopping block if he had succeeded. Hey, you're Sirius Black, right?"

Sirius grinned, "Yeah, but you can call me Padfoot."

O~O~O~O~O

"Mmmm." Draco sighed contentedly, still half asleep, and burrowed deeper into the blankets.

Lucius smiled; Draco looked so peaceful, smiling faintly. Lucius slowly ran a hand though Draco's hair. "Good morning, precious. Did you sleep well?"

"Mm."

"Is that a yes or a no?"

"Mm."

But Draco's content smiled curled slightly into a mischievous grin. Lucius grinned just as evilly; if Draco felt like playing, he was more than happy to play along.

"Hm, you seem to be quite awake yet. Maybe this will wake you up..." Lucius then started tickling Draco lightly on his stomach. Draco didn't move or make a sound, but from the twitch of his lips, Lucius could see that he obviously was exerting an extraordinary effort not to laugh. Lucius tickled harder, but still Draco did not laugh. Finally, Lucius took both hands and tickled Draco all over, from his waist to his neck. That was too much for Draco.

"Father," he giggled, "Father, stop! I'm awake! I'm awake! Father, please!" Lucius chuckled; he was having too much fun to stop. "Father! Stop, I mean it!" Draco finally flipped over, curled up in a ball, and covered his head with his hands.

Lucius placed a hand on Draco's back, but the boy jerked away. "I can't believe you did that!" Draco snapped, "I told you to stop, and you didn't!"

"I'm sorry, precious; I thought we were playing."

"Stop calling me that!"

Lucius frowned. "What? Why?"

"Because you don't mean it!" Draco sobbed into his arms.

Lucius froze; he thought that he had made such progress with Draco. "Precious-"

"Stop it!" Draco screamed.

"Pre- Draco, please, listen to me. I love you-"

"No you don't! You've been lying this whole time!"

"What? Why would you think that?"

"Because you didn't listen to me! I told you to stop and you didn't! You never do!"

"What are you talking about? Is this about me forcing you to eat? Draco, I was just doing what was best for you."

"And when you hit me and cursed me, was that for the best too?" The anger had leeched out of Draco's tone, and now he sounded lost and confused. But that didn't make it any easier to Lucius to hear; anger, he could have dealt with, but not this despair. Had he done this to his precious son? He had.

"Draco... Draco, I made some terrible mistakes with you. I never... all I ever wanted was for you to be happy, and," Merlin, this wasn't coming out right. "Draco, I... I always wanted to be a good father, but no one ever... Draco, my own father hurt me constantly because he enjoyed it, and I swore I'd never be like him-"

"Then why did you hurt me?" Draco sobbed brokenly. There was nothing Draco could have said that could have hurt Lucius more.

Despite all his attempts to stop himself, Lucius started to cry too, silently. "Draco, I told you at the time that I was trying to teach you how to be strong, how to-"

"That is such crap!" Draco snarled, completely unaware of the tears that were now streaming down Lucius' face.

"I know, I know. I see that now. And I have never been more sorry for anything in my life than for how I've hurt you. But at the time, it seemed to make such sense... Draco... I am not a good man; I've done a lot of evil things in my life. The only thing I ever did that meant anything was having you. Draco, if there was anything I could do that would make up for what I've done to you..." Lucius trailed off; he hated the tears that had started to creep into his voice and tried to stop them. But apparently Draco had noticed them anyway.

Draco rolled over and blinked at Lucius with red, puffy eyes. He didn't say anything, he just watched solemnly as Lucius tried to bring himself under control. Finally, Draco spoke, "I've never seen you cry before."

"Yes, you have," Lucius replied, self-disgust evident in his tone.

"When was that?" Draco sniffed.

"That first night. You were half asleep; I'm not surprised you don't remember."

"Why were you crying then?"

Lucius glanced at him with newly dried, gray eyes, "You had been hurt. Why else would I be crying?"

Apparently, Draco didn't have an answer to that. He just stared at the blankets, tugging idly on a loose thread. Lucius handed him a handkerchief and Draco wiped the tears from his face.

O~O~O~O~O

"That kid... the nerve, comparing me to Snape... just like James..." Percy stared, open mouthed, as tall, filthy man with very long, unkempt black hair stalked into the hospital wing, muttering to himself. Percy glanced at the newspaper photograph accompanying the declaration of Sirius Black's innocence and realized that the wizard in question was the very same who had just entered the room.

"Black?" Mr. Crouch blinked sleepily.

Black stopped in his tracks and glared hatefully at Mr. Crouch. "I remember you," he growled. "I guess you're going to know what it's like now, aren't you?" and without waiting for Mr. Crouch to respond, Black marched to the bathroom and slammed the door.

Black did not emerge until lunchtime, when Harry, Ron, and Hermione showed up, looking for him. "Sirius!" Harry grinned, practically glowing with joy, "You're clean!"

"Yes," Sirius scowled, "As you can see, that comment about my hair looking like Snape's was completely unwarranted."

"Not this morning, it wasn't," Harry replied, still grinning. "Have you been in the shower this whole time?"

"No," Sirius pouted, "It just takes a while to comb hair this long." Sirius then flipped a lock of now sleek, shiny, waist-length hair over one shoulder.

"Why didn't you just cut some of it off?"

"Because he's too proud," a new voice answered.

"Moony!" Sirius declared happily. Former professor Lupin smiled shyly, "Hello, Padfoot. It's good to see you."

Sirius grinned brilliantly and hugged Lupin tightly, chanting, "Moony! I'm free! I'm free!"

Lupin chuckled, "I know, I saw the papers. Would you mind putting me down, now?"

"Yes!" Sirius laughed, swinging Lupin around. Harry and Ron laughed, but Hermione looked disapproving.

"Sirius, put me down; I mean it," Lupin managed to sound dignified despite being tossed around like a sack of flour.

"Maybe you should, Sirius," Harry giggled.

"Oh, fine," Sirius mock-pouted. He set Lupin on his feet, straightened his robes, and smiled at him. "Good as new."

A shadow flickered across Lupin's eyes. "No," replied softly.

Sirius pushed a wayward lock of graying hair behind Lupin's ear. "I know. But we can try."

Everyone suddenly looked solemn and sad for a minute, until Hermione asked, "Harry, why don't we ask Professor Lupin about the note?"

"What note? And you all can call me Remus; I'm not a professor anymore."

"Okay, Remus," Harry smiled shyly, digging a wrinkled piece of parchment out of his pocket. Remus examined the note thoughtfully.

"I assume you didn't write this?" he asked Sirius.

"Right."

"And this is what tipped you off about Crouch, Harry?"

"Yes," Ron answered, "We nullified the polyjuice the night after we received it so that it wore off at dinner in front of everyone." Ron looked awfully smug.

Remus then cast a series of revealing and reversal charms on the note. "Nothing's happening," he muttered, "It was forged the muggle way."

"But who could have sent it?" Hermione wondered.

"Who would want Crouch caught without doing it themselves?" Remus countered.

"I think the better question is who would have wanted Crouch caught and *known* about the impersonation," Sirius clarified.

Percy glanced at Mr. Crouch, who was obviously listening intently to the conversation but trying to make it appear as if he were not. And for some reason, Sirius' comment had brought an image of Lucius Malfoy to Percy's mind. What had he been doing in the ministry records that day? But Lucius Malfoy had no motive to expose Crouch jr., so it couldn't have been him.

"What can you tell me about how you received it?" Remus asked Harry.

"It was delivered at breakfast by a black crow that just flew off after it delivered it."

"A crow? You're sure it wasn't a raven?"

"Yes," Hermione replied with certainty, "I looked it up."

"Hmmm. Did the bird look domesticated?"

"What do you mean?"

"Was it clean, well groomed? How did it act?"

"Come to think of it, it was rather scraggly looking. It didn't make a sound the whole time, just circled once, dropped the letter in Harry's oatmeal and flew off," Ron replied.

Remus looked thoughtful. "Did anything odd happen around the note was delivered?"

"No, just the normal breakfast, quieter, though, with Malfoy gone," Ron grinned.

"Malfoy's gone? Why? For how long?"

"He went out for the Hogsmeade weekend and didn't come back. He has been looking rather sick lately," Hermione replied.

"If he was sick, why didn't he just go to the hospital wing?"

"That's what I said," Ron cut in. But Percy wasn't listening to Ron; he was watching Mr. Crouch very carefully.

As soon as Ron had mentioned Malfoy's absence, Mr. Crouch had flinched, and looked almost... guilty? What would Crouch feel guilty for? He wasn't in any shape to have done anything to the Malfoy boy, but what if... Suddenly everything clicked into place; if Crouch jr. had done something to hurt Draco, Lucius had ample motive to expose him. Lucius hadn't been into Harry's file that day as part of an evil plot, he had been looking for a sample of Sirius' handwriting! Sirius was Harry's godfather, after all; his signature had been on Harry's birth certificate. But now that Percy knew, how could he prove it?

O~O~O~O~O

Percy didn't know why he was doing this. Mum would have a fit if she knew that he, *he*, had actually caught the twins after dinner and asked them to sneak out, after hours, to meet him in an obscure corner of the dungeons. And considering what Percy was then going to ask them when they arrived...

Percy had decided that afternoon that his next step was to find out as much as he could about Crouch jr.'s tendencies for violence. Percy couldn't access the ministry files on him or Malfoy (information on him might also prove useful); Crouch's were under high security right now, and Percy didn't want to be found rifling through a former Death Eater's files while everyone was still so worked up.

The same went for the official Hogwarts files; Dumbledore had them, and Percy didn't want to bring him into it until he had proof of his suspicions. The only other files that could help, Percy had decided, belonged to Filch. But Percy still hoped to get the files he needed without Filch knowing; for that to happen, he needed a distraction. That's where the twins came in.

"Hey, Perce."

"What's up?"

Percy took a deep breath before answering, "I am never, ever going to ask you to do this again, but I need you to distract Filch while I get some files from his office."

The twins' jaws dropped. "He's an imposter!" George whispered loudly to his twin, drawing his wand.

"Ok, who are you and what have you done with our brother?" Fred demanded.

Percy sighed in frustration. "It's me. This is really important-"

"Liar!"

"Percy would never ask us something this cool!"

"Shh! Keep your voices down! And I am Percy!"

"Prove it!"

"What was the worst thing we ever did?"

Percy sighed again, "Well, I wasn't happy with the whole pyramid thing-"

"Ha!"

"But the worst thing you did was when you tried to trick Ron into making an unbreakable vow."

There was a pause. "Ok, if you really are Percy…"

"And we're not saying you are…"

"What's in it for us?"

Percy hadn't thought of that. "Um, what do you want?"

"Well... first of all, if we get caught, you tell Mum it was your idea."

"Of course."

The twins traded shifty looks. "And you tell us why you're going though Filch's files."

"I can't tell you that."

"Tell us, or we'll raise the alarm."

"You'll be rotting in Azkaban, Percy-imposter!"

Percy growled, "Fine! I think I know who sent Harry the information about Crouch jr., and I'm looking for evidence to back up my theory."

"Who?"

"I can't tell you that now."

The twins frowned and folded their arms. "You tell us or we won't do it."

Percy frowned; just once, couldn't the twins simply go along with what he was asking? "I can't tell you until after I get the files I need; I need to know I'm right before I start rumors."

The twins looked even more suspicious. "But doesn't the ministry have more up-to-date files?"

"Yes, but they are under top security right now. Look, I'll do anything you ask; I really need these files."

George grinned evilly. "Anything?"

Percy suddenly realized how stupid he'd been, saying that, but he needed those files; and he was a Gryffindor, wasn't he? Percy squared his shoulders.

"Anything."

O~O~O~O~O

"Father? Would... would you sleep with me tonight?" Lucius couldn't keep the relived smile from his face. He had been terrified that Draco hated him; the boy hadn't said a word since their argument. He'd been quiet and withdrawn all day. He'd also eaten very little, but Lucius hadn't had the heart to call him on it.

"Of course I will, precious." Draco flinched at the endearment but didn't say anything. "May I ask why?" Lucius continued.

"No."

"All right." Lucius raised his hands apologetically; he was terrified that he would say the wrong thing and Draco would bolt. "Do you still want your potion?"

Draco nodded, "Yes."

"All right." Lucius called for Dibby, careful to use a gentle tone around Draco. Lucius pulled back the covers so that the boy could climb under them, then helped Draco drink the half-full goblet, careful the whole time not to touch him. Once he'd drained the goblet, Draco lay down, blinking sleepily.

Before he drifted of entirely, Draco looked at Lucius and said, "I'm sorry he hurt you, father."

Lucius stared at Draco, now fast asleep, then hid his face and his hands, lowered his head between his knees, and began to cry. "I'm sorry too, precious. I'm sorry too."

* End Chapter 6 *


	7. Acceptance

Disclaimer: None of these characters are mine, which is just as well, because they keep ordering me around. Draco, especially, will not do what I want him to.

Precious

-Catspook

Chapter 7: Acceptance

Percy winced as the twins' latest product, potent putty projectiles, exploded in the trophy room, one floor and a long hallway away from where Percy was hiding. The fact that he could hear the explosions worried him; he didn't want to think about what was being done to the trophies. But it was too late now to second-guess himself.

Percy watched from behind a suit of armor as Filch ran down the hall yelling, "You ruffians! I'll see you expelled for this!" Swallowing his guilt, Percy stepped out from behind the statue once Filch was out of sight. Filch's door was easily opened with a simple unlocking charm, as were the file cabinets. Percy quickly grabbed Bartimus Crouch jr.'s and Lucius Malfoy's files, then re-locked the cabinets. He cast the same charm on the door, then ran to an old charms classroom to read through the files away from prying eyes.

Percy read through Crouch jr.'s file first, which was thinner than he had anticipated. There were only three incidents mentioned; two weeks detention for an exploded potions cauldron in his second year, and two episodes of after hours snogging in the astronomy tower his seventh year. Percy frowned when he read that Crouch jr.'s liaisons had both been a fourth year boys, but that proved nothing.

Malfoy's file was far thicker than Crouch jr.'s. He had never been caught having a dalliance in the astronomy tower, but he had been involved in more than his share of unauthorized duels. He had also had apparently been involved in more than one altercation with James Potter, Sirius Black, Remus Lupin, and Peter Pettegrew. Interestingly enough, Snape was also involved in every incident with them.

And then, aha! In his sixth year, Malfoy had been caught doing another student's potions assignment; he'd been forging the other boy's handwriting expertly, and he would never have been caught if Filch hadn't found him working on the document in an unused classroom. Percy now knew that Malfoy was capable of forging and sending the note, and he had a general understanding of why, but he couldn't go to the ministry without proof that Crouch jr. had hurt Draco.

But then, as unthinkable as it was, he started to wonder whether he should even go to the Ministry. It seemed the sort of thing that they ought to know, but what would the Ministry do that hadn't already been done? Tell the papers? If Malfoy had gone to such trouble to keep it quiet, he probably had his reasons. And if the motive had been revenge for something that was done to Draco, the boy would be dragged into it as well. Was it right to expose a victimized teenager to that kind of public scrutiny? Finally, though Percy would never admit this factored into his decision, what might Lucius Malfoy do to Percy – or his family - if he exposed him?

O~O~O~O~O

Lucius plunged his head into the basin of cold water in Draco's bathroom and held it there for over a minute. He felt wrung out, shaky, and as much as he wanted to take a long, hot bath, he was afraid he would fall asleep and drown. Not that Lucius cared that much at the moment, but Draco needed him. Lucius dried his face with a hand towel then stumbled back to Draco's bed. It seemed profane for him to share a bed with his perfect son, but Draco wanted him there. Lucius climbed into the far side of the bed from Draco and considered whether he should pull the boy into his arms. He did not want to Draco feel violated by unsolicited physical contact, but he also wanted to provide any comfort he could. He decided to lie about a foot away from Draco, so that Draco could reach him if he needed to. As exhausted as he was, Lucius was asleep within minutes.

O~O~O~O~O

"You're certainly up late, Mr. Weasley. Is there anything troubling you?"

Percy was so startled by the unexpected inquiry that he fell off the stool he was sitting on. "Headmaster Dumbledore?" he gasped, rubbing his bruised elbow.

"Are you all right, Mr. Weasley?" Dumbledore helped Percy to his feet, smiling in that all-knowing, fatherly was of his.

"Yes, I'm fine. I'm sorry, I didn't see you enter."

Dumbledore's eyes twinkled mischievously, "You weren't meant to. Now, could you possibly tell me what has kept you up so late, away from your charge, and required you to urge your bothers to coat the trophy room in slime?"

"They were caught?"

"Not by Argus, and they won't be punished if you can give me a good reason for why they would do such a thing."

Percy looked at the floor. "I asked them to create a distraction."

"For what?"

Percy paused only for the briefest of moments, before looking Dumbledore in the face. "I required a private a look at some of Mr. Filch's files."

"And did you find anything interesting?"

"Yes."

O~O~O~O~O

When Lucius awoke, the first thing he noticed was that Draco was cuddled up close to him. Lucius was elated; he had been so terrified yesterday that he had lost his son forever. Lucius didn't move; he would let Draco wake up in his own time and decide what happened next.

"Father?" Draco murmured sleepily.

"Yes?" Lucius smiled.

Draco didn't seem to be upset that Lucius was touching him. "Can I have chocolate chip pancakes for breakfast?"

Lucius grinned. "Of course, preci... Draco."

"It's okay, you know. You can call me that... If you want to."

Lucius brushed a lock of hair away from Draco's eyes. "Thank you, precious."

O~O~O~O~O

"I see you used less syrup this time."

"Well, after all that soup, it seems I can't handle it so well, doesn't it?"

Lucius just smiled. "Would you like a bath?"

"Yes, but don't look!"

"Of course." Lucius stood and extended his hand to Draco, but the boy didn't take it. Draco swayed a bit when he stood up, but he managed to walk to the bathroom by himself. Lucius filled the tub and was careful not to look at Draco until after the boy said it was okay.

Draco was leaning back with his eyes closed, up to his neck in soapy water. "Mmm."

Lucius smiled and sat on a silver plated, filigree chair asking, "Did you sleep well?"

"Yes."

"Good."

"Did you?"

"Like the dead." Lucius immediately regretted using that particular turn of phrase as Draco opened his eyes and gave Lucius an odd look.

"I've always wondered about that. If death is supposed to be so peaceful why is the Avada Kedavra so illegal? I mean, it's a better death than most people get, quick and painless."

Lucius looked at Draco thoughtfully; he sure was being philosophical for so early in the morning. "I believe the pain of the Avada Kedavra is not primarily for those killed, but those left behind."

"Oh."

Draco grabbed the soap and a sponge and started washing himself under the bubbles. Lucius leaned back and closed his eyes, still tired even after a full night's sleep. He had just dozed off when, "Father?"

Lucius jerked awake, "What?"

Draco grinned, "You were sleeping, weren't you?"

"Yes," Lucius replied, embarrassed.

"Oh. Would you wash my back for me?"

"Of course," Lucius rolled up the sleeve of his robe, grabbed the sponge, and scrubbed Draco's bony back gently.

Draco started giggling, "That tickles."

Lucius dropped the sponge as if it had burned him. "I'm sorry..." he stuttered, and Draco turned to look at him wide-eyed.

"Father, what... oh, yesterday. It's okay, father; I didn't mean it like that."

Lucius just gazed at Draco sadly. "I am so sorry, son."

"It's... I forgive you." Lucius didn't trust himself to speak. He hugged Draco tightly; completely oblivious to the fact that he was spilling soapy water everywhere.

"Father!" Draco smiled, "You're going to get soaked."

Lucius felt like yelling that he didn't care, but he instead released Draco and hid the fact that he had been crying by grabbing a towel and drying his face first, then his shoulders and arms. He cast a drying charm on his robes, too ashamed to look at Draco directly.

"Be careful getting out of the tub; the floor is slippery."

O~O~O~O~O

"It looks nice outside." Draco gazed longingly out the windows of Lucius' office. He was currently cocooned in charmed blankets on a black, leather lounge chair, reading his potions text. Lucius had some paperwork to do, and he had refused to leave Draco alone. Draco had said he didn't mind a change in scenery.

And because of that, Lucius immediately pick up on the hint. "It's too cold for you to go outside."

"How cold is it?"

"Slightly above freezing." Draco pouted and returned to his book. Lucius turned back to his paperwork, watching Draco out of the corner of his eye.

The boy kept glancing up from his book and fidgeting restlessly. "Are you all right?"

"I'm bored," he sniped, tossing his book on the floor.

"Would you like to play chess?"

"No."

"What would you like to do?"

"Nothing. Something. I don't know."

Lucius stood and walked over to the lounge. He sat at Draco's feet and picked the potions text up from off the floor. Draco took it sullenly. "Are you all right?"

"No."

"Can I help?"

"No. Yes. Maybe."

"What's wrong?"

"I hate this!"

"What?"

"This! Everything... Not being able to walk down the hall without having to stop... Not being about to go outside because I can't stand the cold... Not being able to sleep without feeling him still inside me unless I'm drugged and have you right there with me..." Draco sniffed and wiped away a few tears, but the fact that he wasn't sobbing hysterically was encouraging.

"Well, to be fair, it is an awfully long hallway." Draco stared at him, then did something very unexpected: he laughed. It wasn't a terribly happy laugh, laced with tears as it was, but Draco's smile was genuine. Lucius smiled as well and pulled Draco, blankets and all, into his arms. Draco tucked his head under Lucius' chin, gazing thoughtfully at nothing in particular.

"I know that you're upset, precious," Lucius said gently, "You have every right to be. But it will get better, I promise. You haven't even been home for a week; give it some time."

"Is that true?"

"Which part?"

"That it gets better with time. Don't you still think about it, sometimes? I mean, I can't imagine that I'll ever be able to forget it. Did you?"

Lucius looked into Draco's eyes sadly. "I... No, I cannot forget it. And yes, sometimes I still think about... it. But there are times, especially when I have you with me, that it's hard to remember why it matters so much."

Draco smiled slightly and rested his head against Lucius' chest. "I love you, father."

Lucius smiled brilliantly. "I love you too, precious."

O~O~O~O~O

The aurors came for Mr. Crouch that evening. He cooperated completely. To Percy, he looked almost... content that he had been arrested at last, but it was hard to tell, because Percy was otherwise engaged in the highly challenging task of restraining a hysterical Winky.

"Goodbye, Weasley," Mr. Crouch said with great dignity as he was led out.

"I'll be at the trial, Mr. Crouch," Percy called after him, but Mr. Crouch did not reply. Once Mr. Crouch was gone, Percy took Winky to the kitchen, where she was greeted by a garishly dressed (dressed?) house elf who called himself Dobby. Come to think of it, Percy seemed to remember hearing about a house elf with that name a long time ago, but he couldn't remember anything else about the matter.

After leaving the kitchens with all due haste, Percy made his way to the Great Hall to have dinner with his siblings before heading home. Walking though the doors, he made eye contact with Dumbledore, who nodded to him. Percy now shared a secret with the older wizard that he had sworn on his honor and his family never to reveal. And as much as he hated to admit it, Percy found that rather exciting.

"Hey, Perce!"

"How's it going?"

The twins were grinning at him with exaggerated friendliness; they really wanted to know what he had found in Filch's files. Percy smiled sadly and sat between Ginny and Ron. "The aurors came for , so I'm going home after dinner. How were classes?"

"Terrible!" Ron complained. "You'd think with You-Know-Who being dead we'd get more than just a day off."

"Ron, how do you expect to ever do well on your OWL.'s with that attitude?" Hermione scolded.

"Hermione, that's *next year*! Calm down, will you?"

Percy suddenly noticed someone was missing. "Where's Harry?"

"Having dinner with Sirius before he goes to stay with Remus," Hermione explained, "Dumbledore didn't want a repeat of yesterday's incident."

"The altercation between MacMillan and the Slytherins?" Percy questioned, "That wasn't Sirius' fault."

The twins giggled and Percy wondered what was so funny until Hermione explained, "Not that. At dinner yesterday, Sirius charmed MacMillan's robes so that they were transparent to everybody except MacMillan. Professor McGonagall was *livid*. She gave Sirius a long lecture about behavior and threatened detentions even though he hasn't been a student here for over eighteen years."

"I still don't know what all the fuss was about; I thought it was funny," Ron grinned.

The twins grabbed their goblets and declared, "A toast to Padfoot!"

"Here here!" Ron agreed. Hermione and Percy exchanged a look; Sirius' declaration of innocence was not without its repercussions.

O~O~O~O~O

"Would you like some help, Draco?" Lucius offered. Draco was obviously exhausted, leaning heavily against the wall as he made his way back to his bedroom. Lucius knew that he should not have granted Draco's request to have dinner in the dining room, but the boy had been so insistent, and Lucius was finding it increasingly difficult to deny his precious son anything. In response to Lucius' inquiry, Draco sighed deeply and nodded. Lucius gently lifted Draco in his arms and carried him back to the boy's rooms.

He pulled back the covers but Draco shook his head. "It's too early for bed."

"You're half asleep already."

Draco just pouted. "It's too early. Read to me?"

"All right, if you lie down."

"Fine," Draco huffed.

He let Lucius tuck him in, but he insisted that Lucius sit next to him on the bed. Draco then wrapped his arms around Lucius' waist and laid his head in Lucius' lap. "What would you like me to read?"

"Don't care," Draco replied sleepily.

"How about 'The Twelve Uses of Dragon's Blood'?" Lucius grinned.

"Oh, like you own a book Dumbledore wrote," Draco murmured. Lucius chuckled.

"I'll surprise you, then. Accio book." Lucius raised a hand to catch the leather-bound tome that came hurling through the air. He stroked Draco's back with one hand and held the book with the other. He smiled and began the first chapter of Draco's favorite childhood storybook. Draco smiled and was asleep within minutes.

O~O~O~O~O

"Dibby is mostest sorry to disturb you, Master Lucius, sir, but old fool Dumbledore is here to see you, sir, and will not be leaving until he is seeing you, sir."

"Where is he?" Lucius snarled, angry at being awakened from a restful sleep.

"Old fool Dumbledore is being in the ballroom, Master Lucius, sir. He is arriving by floo Master Lucius, sir."

"Tell him I'll be there shortly, and he had better not set a foot out of that room."

"Yes, Master Lucius, sir." Dibby popped away and Lucius scowled furiously.

How dare that old goat invade his home! Lucius carefully slid out of Draco's grasp and placed a hand on his hair. Once he was sure Draco was warm enough and still soundly asleep, Lucius marched to the ballroom to confront Dumbledore. "Oh, good evening, Lucius," the old codger greeted, smiling that infuriating, fake smiled of his.

"What are you doing in my house?" Lucius hissed.

"No time for formalities, I see. Well, I shall get to the point, then. I was wondering if you happened to know anything about a note that was sent to one of my students."

"Why would I know anything about that?"

"Well, you see, it contained certain information that I am inclined to believe you had access to, and it was an expert forgery of the student's godfather's writing. I seem to remember that you have a particular talent for forgery."

Lucius raised an eyebrow, "Is that all?"

"Yes, if you can answer one question for me. What were you looking for in the Ministry's files four days ago?"

Lucius seethed inwardly; that whelp! Lucius should have obliviated him when he had the chance. But outwardly, he just raised an arrogant eyebrow. "I work for the Ministry; I often have occasion to retrieve files."

"Ah, but you had arranged for a leave of absence to begin that very morning, if I am not mistaken."

"An extended leave of absence. I was tying up a loose end; I did not want to leave it hanging until September."

Dumbledore smiled, the irritating bastard, those detestable blue eyes glittering mockingly at Lucius. "You always have an answer for everything don't you, Lucius? I'm not interested in making a public issue out of this; I would merely like to establish that young Harry is not in danger."

"He will always be in danger, you know that as well as I."

"True, true. But surely you would agree that it would be better to know who sent the letter. We can't have identified forgers sending Hogwarts' students sensitive information." Dumbledore then looked at Lucius in a most peculiar way; it seemed like those piercing blue eyes could see right through him. "I have no interest in making this information known to anyone save for myself; I merely wish to be able to tell young Harry that he need no longer worry."

Lucius narrowed his eyes at the old git; he did *not* like being manipulated in his own home. "If you have no more evidence than that, I suggest you get out of my home *now*. As I have informed you, my son is very ill; I wish to be with him."

"Ah, yes, how is Draco doing?"

Lucius sneered, "Much better, now that he is away from that poor excuse of a school."

"Is that why you decided to rid us of Voldemort, Lucius? Because of Draco?"

Lucius nearly bared his teeth in rage, but whipped his head around when he heard a timid, "Father?"

Draco was standing on the bottom of the stairs, leaning heavily on the banister and looking lost. Ignoring Dumbledore, Lucius rushed to Draco's side. "Draco, what are you doing out of bed?"

The boy dove into his arms and buried his face in Lucius' neck. "Draco! You're freezing; you are going to catch another cold."

"I'm sorry, father; I was just scared. I didn't know where you went."

"I'm sorry, precious." Lucius turned to Dumbledore, cradling Draco against himself. "Well, I trust now that you saw all you came here to see?" he hissed acidly.

Dumbledore nodded, looking irritatingly wise and thoughtful. "I know you have little reason to trust me, but you can count on my discretion. And we do look forward to seeing Draco back at Hogwarts when he is feeling better. We'll do a better job of looking after him, Lucius; I promise." And with that, he tossed a hand of floo powder into the fireplace and stepped in. When he was gone, Lucius sneered; as if that hypocritical buffoon's word was worth anything! But, as always, Draco was more important. Lucius lifted his son, who was already asleep, and lovingly carried him back to bed.

O~O~O~O~O

"Hello? Father, are you in here?" Lucius looked up from his paperwork and smiled.

"Come in; I'm just about finished." Draco grinned, jogged over to Lucius, and hopped into his lap. "Ah! You're getting heavy, though not quite heavy enough, yet." Lucius frowned thoughtfully, running a hand down Draco's side. He could still feel the boy's ribs though his clothes, though they were not nearly as prominent as they had been four and a half months ago. Draco pouted. His weight was a constant bone of contention between the two of them; he thought he had the right to be as thin as he chose, and waved off Lucius' concerns about his health as paternal over-protectiveness.

He leaned into Lucius side and looked up at him with his large, silver eyes. "You're never going to stop harping on that, are you?"

Lucius looked offended. "Of course I will. If you reach and maintain a healthy weight."

Draco huffed; he knew there was no point in arguing about it. He handed Lucius a letter and mumbled, "Here. My final grades."

Lucius took the letter carefully. "Are you sure you don't want to open it?"

Draco shrugged. "It makes no difference to me; it's not like I can change them now." Lucius raised an eyebrow; Draco sounded almost... afraid? He had studied diligently for his exams, which Severus had administered to him last week; surely he couldn't have fared poorly on them? But then Lucius remembered that mudblood girl; Draco was probably wary of Lucius' reaction if he once again scored lower than her on every test.

In that case, Draco had nothing to worry about. "No matter what this says, I promise I will not be upset with you."

Draco smiled shyly. "I trust you, father."

Lucius hugged him, then broke the seal on the letter. He rattled off the list of grades to Draco, who was staring intently at his fingernails. "Arithmancy, 101%, second ranking. Care of Magical Creatures, 103%, second ranking. Charms, 100%, second ranking. Herbology, 101%, second ranking. History of Magic, 102%, second ranking. Potions..."

Draco looked up sharply. "What?"

Lucius grinned. "Potions, 112%, first ranking."

"First?" Draco smiled. "I can't *wait* to see Granger's face in September." Lucius just smiled; seeing Draco's face now was more than enough for him.

*The End*


End file.
